


Echoup de théâtre: Cache [Remix]

by Lenighma (Mareonet)



Series: Echo [The Remixes] [3]
Category: Bleach (manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Evil Soul Society, Future Character Death, Future Romance, M/M, Mystery, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Romance, Suffering, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareonet/pseuds/Lenighma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-AU, Echo Series Pt.3 REMIX- Around the exact same time Ichigo calls out to his Hollow in the depths of his soul, Urahara finds Ichimaru Gin in an alley, teetering on the brink of death. However, no matter how badly injured he becomes, no matter what violent internal trauma he receives, he will not die. The man is disturbed, hiding behind a mask of violence and corruption...and has taken dangerous interest in a certain orange-haired teen he owes a debt to. Inevitably, he not only changes the teen's life, but questions his own existence as the unwilling puppet master's aide. Thus the snake strikes again to set the stage for the absolute and horrifying truth.</p><p>Future GinIchi. <b>This part can be skipped.</b></p><p>This is the new, updated version of the old but incomplete (and ongoing) version on <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8153890">FF.net</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro: Sputter

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part three of the **Echo Series**. The **Trial and Bonding** portion precedes this. I recommend you read the second part ( _[Echough](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3097325)_ ) of the [Remixed series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/194192) first, as the events are parallel to the beginning of this story. This is the first of the **Love and Treachery** portion, which is the second of the series.
> 
> Title is from "coup de théâtre", which means a sudden dramatic turn of events. A cache can mean a place for concealment and safekeeping, as of valuables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am still on my hiatus. This is just something I'm doing to correct the mistakes made in the original, unremixed version of _Cache_ on [FanFiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8153890). I _need_ to do this. This fanfic is _so old_ , now, and wrought with so many errors! So...this is a necessity. I'll try to keep this fic a chapter or two behind the original version.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Lose your mind...Lose it twice  
_ —Saybia, "Snake Tongued Beast" 

* * *

His world, his most sacred place, shivered and fractured before his eyes. The cracks spread and cut into every impossible surface, even the sky itself. Every move to turn caused a pain to spread through his being, leaving a horrible sensation in its wake reminiscent of pins and needles. Something, some outside source, was the cause of this pain within his soul, but he hadn't a clue as to what it could be. He clenched his hand at his side, scanning his surroundings in agony and muddled clarity. Shinsō. Where was _Shinsō_?

Then, with a feeling not unlike a physical pull, he was thrown from out of his disintegrating sanctuary and into the cold, cruel reality of the real world.

Eyes snapping open, he jolted forward with a choked gasp from the pain and rush of being forcibly removed from his inner world. Following the jolt, his head hit back against the brick wall, rattling his senses as blood gushed from his mouth before he could reflexively shout out. A strange throbbing seemed to press against his chest while the blood from his mouth continued down his neck in steady rivulets. It became difficult to breathe, his body trembling from exertion. What little consciousness he had left through this pain still couldn't distinguish its origins. It was simply... _everywhere_.

A sardonic thought passed through his subconscious: what a perfect, pathetic end for a traitor. The intentions behind his treachery weren't enough to save him from Hell and torture; he took lives, innocent and otherwise, betrayed and backstabbed, and merely smiled through it all. Regardless of everything he wanted, desired and intended...he truly deserved no mercy.

His lifeblood draining from him, he vaguely took notice of garbled sound resonating within his soul. Shinsō. He couldn't even sense her, anymore, and this deeply frightened him, but perhaps this was what Death was, and he had no choice but to accept. There was no reason for him to hold on...

Yet he continued to _live_.

_Why_ , he wondered in a painfully morbid state of awareness, was he still alive? Why was he still holding on, and how dare he? Why was his body betraying him, dangling merciful, sweet death before him and yet so far out of reach? Why couldn't he die...?

What were only months felt like years to his feeble mind. So many years seemed to have passed since he first dragged his wretched body from the rubble he nearly died upon. Unable to move, he continued to stare aimlessly at the emptiness that made up a dark wall before him.

One day, what appeared to be a cloud of darkness moved before his bloodstained eyes, but he spared it no attention, or couldn't either way, unable to care why it didn't continue moving on as the many others had for the past...years...?

This darkness, unnatural, as it couldn't be otherwise, continued to hover above him for a few minutes before receding out of the corner of his eyes. Time passed impossibly slow, until yet another, larger shadow hung above him. Though unable to focus, he would later think he heard an echo of some sort emit from it, loud and disorienting; someone speaking?

...But what was this? His body was moved, carefully lifted and wrapped in a warm (so _warm_ )...something...and into what could have been arms or something to lie in...or on. He was placed gently onto his back, and continued staring faintly at the darkness that was now sky, watching with still, half-blind eyes even when the dim scene before him moved; _he_ was being moved.

That part of him so stubbornly holding onto life seemed to exhale with a yearning, welcomed relief. Following that exhale, he found his afflicted eyes unable to stay open any longer.

For the first time in too long an agonizing passage of time, just when a voice as clear as day murmured ringing words, his eyes closed, locking him behind a painful and dreamless slumber.

_"You're alive."_


	2. Died, Dead, Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dead man is found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said....yes. I am still on my hiatus. Please reread chapter one.

A pair of transcendental beings fought on the day known as the Winter War. One fought with the conviction to prevent the other from destroying his home, all that he loved, and from succeeding to attempt what was deemed madness. The other sought to ascend to an even greater level of power, to destroy the very foundations of millennia-old beliefs held true, and with the intentions to prove something that went unknown to all but _one man_.

That day, one of those beings survived the war, only to play a pivotal role in one of two events that were harbingers to yet another dimension-shaking incident.

Approximately one-hundred and four days after the War and the startling death of Aizen Sōsuke, his executioner, the 16-year-old Kurosaki Ichigo, called out to his Hollow self-exiled in the depths of his soul. Simultaneously, under the cover of night, a humble shopkeeper found the half-dead body of that _one man_ thought to have died during the war.

Roughly a quarter mile away from where Ichigo and Aizen fought and on the precipice of the destroyed town of Karakura, Urahara Kisuke stared upon the body slumped against an alley wall. Infamous for his uncanny ability to know what normally went or should be unknown, Kisuke was not a man easily surprised. He could be considered a jack-of-all-trades in the world of supernatural knowledge, as there was much he knew, knew most of the well-guarded secrets, and had all too many of his own.

But one thing he had absolutely not foreseen, added to his calculations or given idle speculation to, was the survival–slim as it was–of Ichimaru Gin.

At first, he didn't know how to approach the situation, eyeing the blood-splattered body and the broken zanpakutō on the ground, out of arm reach. Though he was not quite examining the body, if the blood was any indication of severe wounds, it was obvious Ichimaru was left to die a slow, agonizing death. As for who or what would do such a thing, there were few suspects.

The man was unconscious, though his eyes were partially cracked open, crusted with dried, blackened blood. If it wasn't for Kisuke stepping close enough to be within arm range, he never would have sensed the waning reiatsu or heard the soft, pained and rasping struggles for breath emitting from the half-dead form.

He had mere seconds to decide what to do with the traitor. He could let him rot, as goodness knew it was a punishment well-deserved...or...he could stake a gamble and divulge into answers and explanations if he helped keep the man alive.

Decision made, he flipped out a cell phone from his pocket, simultaneously pressing a single button, and held it to his ear. His eyes remained fixed on Ichimaru's body, and he waited for only a few seconds before the call was answered.

"Tessai-san. I am in the sole alley at the edge of the destroyed section of town. There is a survivor from the war," he explained in brief. To the inevitable question, he responded, "Ichimaru Gin. Yes, he is just barely alive and will require extensive medical care. Thank you."

Returning the phone into the folds of his haori, Kisuke lowered to take the broken wakizashi from the ground. No, not broken, shattered, the vast majority of its blade in small pieces before the broken body of its partner. It seemed to tremble in his hand, a tremble of...fear? He held the bloodstained hilt in his hand, eyeing it curiously.

A familiar presence appeared beside him, and he glanced back to gauge the expression of his childhood companion.

Shihōin Yoruichi could do little more than grimace at the scene. "Ichimaru," she grimly hummed. "I daresay he got his bad."

"Yes," he agreed, focusing back on Ichimaru. "But by whom?"

"Certainly not Ichigo."

"Indeed, he didn't have the time, nor is this something he would do. He showed mercy even to someone like Aizen, until the very end." Kisuke came to Ichimaru's side to examine the extent of his wounds, taking advantage of the cloudless sky.

Three obvious wounds were inflicted upon Ichimaru's body. The first was the most obvious and most brutal: the skin, internal ligaments and bone from a quarter of his upper arm was broken and ripped as if the missing three-fourths were forcibly torn from his body.

The second wound, as Kisuke tentatively moved some of the ripped haori aside, was a nasty gash running diagonally from his upper chest, narrowly missing his heart, to his abdomen. It was deep and clean, as if his skin was butter to whatever weapon had cut him. It was some wretched miracle he wasn't cut in half.

From this observation, indiscernible to Kisuke's eyes but pointed out by Yoruichi, the third wound was possibly signs of Ichimaru being impaled by a sword.

Shortly after this examination, Tsukabishi Tessai arrived upon the cloth-like flying contraption. After landing, he took Kisuke's place inside the alley and gave the traitor's body a brief, impassive glance before ever so delicately lifting him into his arms. Only then did his expression change to surprise.

"He's very cold and almost weightless," he commented while exiting the alley.

Without waiting for a prompt, Kisuke took some blankets brought from the Shōten and gave them to Tessai. As Ichimaru's body was so lightweight, the burly man was easily able to maneuver and wrap the blanket around him before laying him gently on the cloth alongside Kisuke.

In moments, they were rushing through the air back to the Shōten. Briefly eyeing the wakizashi hilt placed before him, Kisuke's gaze then glanced at Ichimaru with wonder and endless questions bubbling to the surface of his mind.

"You're alive," he murmured, as if that simply summed up the situation, though to himself or to the other, he wasn't sure.

Moments after he spoke, though the moment went entirely unnoticed, the afflicted eyes slowly, almost mechanically, closed.

* * *

There was a room in the Shōten, rarely even used by their many previous injured guests, fashioned like an infirmary. After disembarking, Tessai brought Ichimaru's swaddled body into a bathroom conjoined to the room for thorough washing. While Tessai prepared the bathroom, Kisuke gathered the tools needed to remove the ligament remaining from what was once a right arm.

Yoruichi, though less experienced with medical work, had set up a bed with reishi stabilizers and arranged what looked to be IV hookups beside it. In the bathroom, Kisuke used gloves to place the chunk of flesh, broken bone and skin that he removed from what was left of Ichimaru's arm; there was little to naught but a right shoulder, now. As he left with the remains on a metal tray, Tessai used the moment to attempt healing the worst of Ichimaru's wounds.

However, something was preventing Ichimaru from accepting the healing reiatsu. Though his reiryoku was weak, it was obviously there, and yet, he could not be healed. Tessai hummed in confusion, maybe even worry. They would have to examine his internal system thoroughly once he was stabilized. Until then, left with no other choice, he would have to at least clean the wounds and bandage them. He prepared to do so.

Once cleaned, bandaged and dried, Ichimaru was gently placed on the bed. Several needles were inserted into his arm and hand, and a stabilizing drug in the form of mist was administered to him through what was akin to an oxygen mask. His lungs were also drained of blood, which, to the horror of his aides, was a blackened color and nearly congealed. Shortly after, he began to breathe easier.

Finally, after over three hours and well into the night, Ichimaru seemed mostly stable. Though he was no longer as cold, he still trembled with sickness. By the time they were finished and certain Ichimaru wasn't going to die from his external wounds, anxiety was high, the three friends' minds taxed from stress. It was not easy to keep a dying man alive.

Once everything died down, Kisuke did some tests and discovered Ichimaru was unable to digest solids, and the condition of his throat and further deterioration of his insides only reduced the possibility of him eating anytime soon. However, his reiryoku was so low, it was likely he didn't need nourishment.

Furthermore, there was an anomaly in his blood. Small, iridescent clear particles couldn't be examined when removed from the fluid, as they would simply disappear into thin air. Those properties were similar to reishi...Could it be possible the particles were reishi, or something similar? Soul particles, perhaps; the "impure" form of reishi that made up a spiritual body...? _Ichimaru's_ body?

...How disturbing.

"So?" Yoruichi asked, standing in the doorway.

He sighed, motioning his hand over the bloodwork upon a table. "No matter how you look at it, Ichimaru is dying. He should have died, in fact, at least three times over already."

She furrowed her brows. "...Can't you give him a coup de grâce?"

"...I'm honestly afraid to try."

Getting an idea there was too much more to this than she though, she slowly tilted her head to the side. "...Why?"

Lips pursing, Kisuke slowly shook his head. "...I have grave suspicions as to why Ichimaru is in this condition. And I do not like them." He began to put away his work, finishing with, "I'll have to create a device to see the inner workings of Ichimaru's body. Nothing I have here can get through."

* * *

The first few days Ichimaru spent at the Shōten were wrought with exhaustion from his strange respiratory arrests, despite his stabilizers, and absolute horror as Ichimaru experienced violent attacks that sent his life-readings off the charts. On average, his reiatsu would fluctuate first, signaling the oncoming bout, then he would convulse intensely for naught but a few painfully long seconds before his eyes ( _those_ eyes) snapped open, and would begin to scream himself to bloody vomiting.

Throughout it all, he was only given a small mercy, as regardless of his opened eyes and what his body did, he remained unconscious. Once the fits passed, he would return to a near-dead state, still as a cadaver, and his fading reiatsu would continue its steady, unnatural course...

-:Edth:C:-

He knew he was unconscious, but something was wrong. The expansive blackness...it was somehow unlike the darkness of dreamless slumber. It wasn't a dream, or a nightmare, as not only was he familiar with the sensations of both, but he couldn't see or feel his subconscious body. The more he became aware of the anomaly the faster a slow, angry pain crept up within him.

Struggling between the sensations of sleep and nearing consciousness, he became uncomfortable and terrified. He tried to call out for his zanpakutō, but heard nothing, not even what should have been his own subliminal "voice".

... _Gin?_

The pain creeping closer, he desperately tried to reach within himself and grasp onto the comforting voice.

_Shinsō?_

If the voice had responded, he couldn't hear it, as sound became distorted. A sudden jolt of fear and panic blossomed inside of him, causing the darkness to slowly ebb, and with a growing dread, he realized he was being forced into consciousness. The budding agony grew a tenfold, and he attempted to talk, but his voice came out as a strained, rasping choke as he faced consciousness head-on.

Shinsō. _Where was Shinsō?_

If he could not hear her in his soul, at _least_ he could hold her sword form in his hand. His unfocused mind ran too fast even for him to comprehend, blinded by his desire, and he lifted a trembling hand while using every bit of strength he had to sit upright. Leaning forward, he nearly tilted off the side of the bed, unaware he had needles in his hand or a mask over his mouth in his incoherent state. He struggled to stand, too far-gone to even register the pain caused by trying or the door opening.

_Where...? Where...?!_

Having only sensed his reiatsu spike, Kisuke nearly had a fright upon seeing the once so very still body of Ichimaru topple off the bed and to the floor. Ichimaru didn't even wince as the needles in his hand were yanked out, causing it to bleed. He reached out, grasping the wall and gasping for breath as he attempted to stand.

Horrifying as the scene was, Kisuke stayed frozen for a moment, observing the blindly panicked expression on the younger man's face...and his uncanny eyes, so disoriented and frightened...

"Sh...Shin...s-sō..." Kisuke heard him murmur, coughing and gasping to breathe on his own while stumbling against the wall. "Wh...whe... _where_...?"

Abruptly, a fierce spasm wracked through his body, and he slid down the wall as he convulsed, hair slick on his forehead from sudden sweat. Shaken from his morbidly observant stupor, Kisuke came to his side and called for Tessai as he attempted to placate the sickly man. Tessai appeared in the doorway a moment later, awaiting orders.

"Can you please recover Ichimaru-san's zanpakutō and a glass of water?" Kisuke asked calmly, helping to move Ichimaru back into the bed.

Ichimaru didn't fight back, his eyes closed and struggling for breath, unable to hear speech above the thumping in his head and his disorientation. He was too weak to do much else, his movement alone taking all the meager energy he had recovered from resting.

He was back in his bed when Tessai returned, entering the room with a cup of water in one hand and a familiar zanpakutō hilt in the other. Kisuke thanked him as he took the cup, removing Ichimaru's mask and placing the cup to his mouth. The moment the water touched his lips, Ichimaru began to drink greedily in large swallows, a sudden tremble causing him to choke. Kisuke gently rebuked him for his dangerously fast swallows, removing the cup so the man could inhale before allowing him to drink some more.

After he downed the cup, Kisuke replaced his mask and then gave the cup to Tessai, taking the hilt in hand. "Why do you want your zanpakutō, Ichimaru-san?" he asked calmly.

Bleary eyes focused on the sword, Ichimaru breathed, "P...pl-please...M-my s...soul..." He arched back, grimacing and his eyes rolling backwards as his body abruptly jolted, coughing reddish speckles into the mask before going deathly still. Seeing _those_ eyes rolling into their owner's head was extremely unnerving, and Kisuke reached over to close them.

Tessai was already adjusting their patient back against the mattress as Kisuke placed the broken wakizashi on the bedside table and examined Ichimaru's status. Yes, he was alive, but barely, which was no longer such a surprise. He was in a deep comatose state once again.

Once they had him stabilized, his mask cleaned, the IV replaced, and his hand treated and bandaged, both Kisuke and Tessai remained. They watched the supine form with shared interest and unabated worry that seemed to bud within them. Something about the entire situation was impossibly somber, somehow.

There was no doubt about it. The only damage affecting Ichimaru was his internal wounds, and as of yet, Kisuke was too wary of them to help. To repair that damage would mean messing about with properties he tried to stay away from after the incident over one-hundred ten years ago...Repair a soul...

The unsaid, rhetorical question hovered between them: what exactly was wrong with Ichimaru? With a soft sigh, as if the question had been asked aloud, Kisuke shook his head, vowing to find the answer to, at the very least, quench his own innate curiosity. That and...something else was nagging at him...

This was, overall, a most disturbing turn of events.

* * *

Since the beginning, the thought of being in danger was nothing short of a possibility to Kisuke and his companions, whether by order of the Central 46 themselves, or if something simply gave them the idea things were amiss. They went about as if all was right in the world to keep their probable enemies closer, naturally, but remained inwardly cautious. They kept watchful eyes on the doings of the Soul Society, and the very Shinigami they had kept or occasionally had in their presence would also work as early warning systems. Such an alert inevitably came, though not from Yoruichi as originally thought it would, but through the worry of the Kurosaki patriarch.

Roughly a month and some weeks or so after finding Ichimaru came the impromptu meeting with Kurosaki Isshin and Hirako Shinji in the Shōten. It hadn't come as a surprise when Isshin announced his intention to leave to the Soul Society; he was a Shiba, it was like them to do such things, and he was simply better off there for the time being for that same reason. But that was the sign, not just to Kisuke, but to all the exiles and "criminals", and the sign itself was no unexpected arrival to any of them.

...Of course, neither man—Isshin or Shinji—were aware of another guest in the Shōten, a criminal and outcast like them, though perhaps they thought they sensed something...

The very next day, the members of the Shōten relocated to the United Kingdom under the cover of darkness and in complete secret, courtesy of Kisuke's inventions and Tessai's use of forbidden spells. Similar to the Urahara Shōten, the company's new house was also a store. Situated in a small Lancashire, England town, it was a sort of curio and candy store called the Back-Alley Shoppe. The building itself had been bought by Kisuke decades ago, but he never had much use for it until then. To keep up appearances, they "drove" to the building and familiarized themselves with the neighborhood that morning. One thing that was not a rouse, however, was their need to remodel the building from top to bottom.

They brought Ichimaru along, of course, to keep under their watchful eye. Having remained comatose throughout the entire move, he was once more placed in one of the rooms fashioned into an infirmary. Since finding the traitor and witnessing his weekly attacks, Kisuke had begun working on an invention that would allow him to see the inner workings of a soul, for instance how much reiryoku a konpaku possessed. In this case, he was intending to use it to see the spiritual damage of Ichimaru's soul; he may not be able to aid, but he may be able to lessen the severity of the attacks if he knew the cause. There was a room in the back of the house he designated for his inventions and scientific study, and there he finished tests with his newly made yet thus far ineffective contraption to see within Ichimaru.

That early afternoon of their move, Yoruichi returned from the Soul Society with news of Isshin's imprisonment. She and Kisuke then briefly discussed what this could mean for Ichigo, as it seemed likely Shinji's fears would indeed occur. The possibility of the teen's life being in danger had suddenly increased a tenfold, a saddening and truly unfortunate development.

By the time it was late evening, the house's remodeling was half-complete and morale was high with excitement and anticipation. As the other occupants prepared for the first night in their new home, Kisuke visited the infirmary to assess his patient's condition. He came to the left side of the bed, reviewing the various monitors attached to Ichimaru's body by wires and tubes, and took notice of the once still eyelids beginning to flutter. As he seemed momentarily stable, perhaps Ichimaru was going to awaken peacefully this time around? Kisuke could only hope.

A second after the optimistic thought had formed, Ichimaru abruptly began coughing, and his hand grasped his chest as his body tensed. The monitor observing his heart and spiritual condition, abnormal as they were already, spiked. And then after a jolt of his body and a gasp, he went still and nearly died yet again. But, as always, _something_ brought him back from the brink. His breathing was sharp and erratic, but slowly evened out. His abnormal readings, however, remained at their increased flux.

Watching with a frown, Kisuke stayed motionless until the return of the steady, deep breaths. He then sighed, eyeing the steadily ascending and descending chest and the hand placed over it. The future scans would have to focus on that point, he mused to himself. After staying for a few minutes to observe and guard, he began to leave the infirmary.

He hadn't even walked three feet from the bed when he abruptly stopped in his tracks upon hearing whispered words. Spinning around, he strained his ears to catch what was being said.

Eyes still closed, the pale lips parted. "...Inside..." Ichimaru breathed, eyelids fluttering as if from a dream, nightmare or maybe even fighting for consciousness. "...I...can...feel it..."

Kisuke's eyes narrowed. What...?

"...Rejectin'..." Ichimaru continued, his words slurred from quarter-consciousness. "...Don'...want it...'n...Shinsō..." He slightly shook his head, and then breathed deeply, going quiet once more.

...Curious little bout. Glancing briefly at the wakizashi hilt placed on the bedside table, Kisuke hummed to himself, deciding to store this away for later consideration, and then left the room with only more questions thriving in his mind.


	3. Snake Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are finally told.

The next day, remodeling continued. Kisuke had just finished explaining Isshin's reasoning for allowing his imprisonment to Jinta Hanakari, carrying a box of miscellanea and walking past the doorway of the infirmary. Glancing in, he saw the uncanny eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. This unusual sight was as pleasing as it was shocking, but he was nonetheless hopeful his patient regained consciousness and perhaps coherence and intended to return to speak with him.

Ichimaru remained in the exact same position when he came back, though his eyes were closed, hiding their tint from sight. Unsure if he was asleep or awake, Kisuke approached, head slightly tilted to the side as he called, "Ichimaru...?"

There was no response at first, and he prepared to leave, but caught the pale mouth twitching just before he completely turned. Ichimaru then cracked his eyes open, just enough to see Kisuke's silhouette through vague vision. "...Urahara...Kisuke..." he murmured before letting his heavy eyelids close. Of all places to be...

"Gin Ichimaru," Kisuke greeted lowly, casually approaching the bed. There was a short silence before Ichimaru took in a long, deep inhale.

Following his exhale, he spoke again. "...Found me..." he said, continuing in a murmured voice.

Kisuke seemed indifferent at the statement. It wasn't surprising the younger man hadn't recalled that they had already spoken, brief as it was. "It wasn't intentional," he assured, sitting in the bedside chair.

"Ah..." Ichimaru exhaled, "...yer speakin'...English..." His brow furrowed for a moment, from pain or confusion. "...We're...not in...Japan...?"

"Yes. We're in England," the shopkeeper responded, "North West of England, to be precise, in the county of Lancashire. This isn't a location frequented by Shinigami or Hollows, as there aren't many spirit particles here, so it's quite safe."

Ichimaru swallowed, making a soft groan. "...Lancashire..." he murmured, adjusting his tongue to English, a language he hadn't used in many decades.

There was a short silence between the two men, the only sound in the room the hiss of air and the beeping of the monitors. During that silence, Ichimaru fully came to realize just whose company he was in...and that he didn't seemto be in any sort of danger. With a man like Kisuke, there could only be one reason for such generous mercy...

"...So...I suppose...ya want...me ta talk." He chuckled humorlessly, a light, strained sound, before murmuring, "I don't mind. No intentions...ta keep secrets...anymore..."

Nodding in appreciation of his fluency, Kisuke glanced to the window to the far right of his patient. "...What areyour intentions?"

A small smile played on his face. "...Mn...wouldn't know...I thought...I died..." he said, eyes slightly opening, just enough to see their eerie, almost gleaming color. "...Wasn't plannin'...ta get this far..."

Surprised at this revelation, from out of his sleeve, Kisuke pulled out his signature fan and flipped it open to hide his mouth. He took a moment to process his thoughts. "...I'll get right to it, then..." he said softly. "Tell me everything, going as far back as to when and whyyou joined Aizen."

Ichimaru chuckled softly, amused by this request. "...My. This...is gonna be...a longstory..."

He went quiet after speaking, though his eyes remained slightly parted and the small smile lingered. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts, shed the layers of barriers within his own mind, but he wanted them all at the ready for the important revelations he would make. And they were so numerous...

In his mind's eye, he vaguely saw a young boy, maybe ten, but probably younger; it was difficult to tell with his gaunt form. _Could never really tell just what I looked like 'til then_ , he mused idly. _Always went by what folks told me, and what...she told me._ _I was a real youngster...an' real frightenin'..._

"...Rukongai," he breathed, the image of the only place he once truly called home finally blossoming in his mind. How many layers did it take for him to reach that? "...Was...just a kid...comin' back...from pickin' persimmons..."

He loved persimmons.

So did she.

But he didn't think she had any until he gave her some first...

More layers so to shed, then.

His brows slightly furrowed while his eyes closed, trying harder to remember. But perhaps Kisuke didn't need to know that part in excessive detail. "...No...The forest...Dunno...maybe I got lucky...maybe he had his guard down...but there were...four Shinigami. Three, kneelin' before another...with a zanpakutō..."

He could sense the reiryoku they held in their hands, that day, the same reiryoku their leader placed into a glass jar holding what appeared to be a small violet ball. He didn't like that object, whatever it was, and the reiryoku was...pure. It was _hers_.

The mere image of her in his mind from then, beaten, starving, unconscious, and half-decent, was enough for what little reiatsu he had to call his own to flicker in loathing. Suddenly all the layers had peeled away, leaving his mind a reservoir of knowledge just waiting to be called upon.

Slowly, his eyes fully opened, just as the eyes of the boy opened in his mind, unleashing a two-toned glower into the direction of the Shinigami leader.

The next word out of his mouth sounded much like a hiss:

_"...Aizen."_

-:Edth:C:-

Kisuke had to give Ichimaru credit. He spoke like a man desperate and determined to tell a long, terrible story, explaining all that had happened in the past some-hundred years despite how obviously exhausted he was. Even when, sometimes, Kisuke felt as if he should rest a bit. He seemed almost relieved to be telling his story.

He didn't tell every little detail in his tale, only the most important events and what occurred during those times. He spoke for almost three hours, with only pauses to take drinks of water Kisuke graciously provided. He furthermore didn't have an attack during this time, as if his body itself was so charitably allowing him to tell all.

When he spoke, the storeowner had assessed what was said with the acute ear of one personally familiar with saccharine words and corrupted aims, like those of Aizen's. Yet Ichimaru came across as quite legitimate, a young man who had done it all, and was merely awaiting the consequences of his actions. What he said afterhis initial explanation of catching Aizen's eye and being taken under his wing, however, caused Kisuke to remain deeply perturbed throughout the rest of story.

...The Great Spirit Library...held such a secret? According to what Ichimaru said, it wasn't meant to be a secret, not until the Central 46 appeared...? To even think it true was a struggle. Horrifying. No, these were blasphemous words, spewed from a radical...

But Kisuke kept his mouth shut until the possibly-former traitor finished with feeling Sōsuke Aizen's vast reiatsu fade and cease to exist while dying in the alley. Only then did he finally speak after many moments of tense silence.

"...How...can I trust what you say?" he asked slowly, his fan motionless in his hand. "Even if it was true..."

With a strained chuckle, Ichimaru completely closed his eyes. "...I couldn't care less...what ya believe," he said softly, his voice tired, "...I just...told ya the way it is..."

"Is there any way you can prove it?" Kisuke asked, closing his fan and leaning forward, curious in spite of himself.

The lapse of the medical sounds again filled the room as Ichimaru suddenly went silent. He seemed to be contemplating something from the past. "...Yeah...but...can't, now..." he finally answered, tone slowly drifting with uncertainty or fatigue. "...'M too weak ta even lift m'hand...But...all I wanna know is...are ya...gonna hand me over...?"

The younger man looked sicklier than usual, Kisuke noted idly as he sat back. To his own surprise, he had long decided what to do with the rebel, and so his answer was swift. "No," he responded, "I plan to do no such thing. Regardless of...what you've told me...I have no intentions for you to be taken by the Gotei 13 only to meet with death, as you would be executed, whether for your previous actions, your blasphemy, or both."

"...Hm..." Ichimaru scoffed softly, fighting sleep. "...Playin' the nice guy...eh..."

"Naturally," Kisuke acknowledged passively. He then went quiet for a moment as he thought of something. "...You will stay here. Under...town arrest, once you've recovered enough." Ifthe man could recover enough...

Silver-white brows slightly furrowed at the unfamiliar term. "Town...?"

"Think it like house arrest," the storeowner explained, though he seemed distracted, "but limited to an entire town instead of a house." He had just made up the term, finding it suitable in this circumstance.

"...Ah." Ichimaru went silent for a moment, seeming to assess the situation. He then cracked a very small but unquestionably amused smile. "...Yer th' boss," he relented, now barely fighting to stay awake

With a contented hum, Kisuke stood. "Thank you for telling me your story, Mr. Ichimaru."

"...Pleasure..."

...He still sounded oddly amused, Kisuke noted to himself. "Get some rest," he said firmly, checking over the monitors and watching as Ichimaru exhaled deeply while going still. After a moment of observation, Kisuke turned and walked away, fanning himself. He left the infirmary, closing the door behind him, and only then did his expression turn serious as he narrowed his eyes in thought, walking slowly to the front of the house.

Ichimaru's story was believable...from a certain perspective, and not a very probable one at that. However, considering the absurdity of the situation...and all that came from the previous events related to it...what he said could very well be the bitterly unadulterated truth. Kisuke would have to worry about that later, as, regardless, it didn't rule out the fact that he currently had a very dangerous, albeit weakened, true criminal under his roof. That was another worry; if it weren't for his current condition, if all he said was true, just how powerful was Ichimaru, really?

Something, what it was Kisuke had no idea, was not right with the present situation. Something was abnormal about young Ichimaru; Kisuke couldn't deny that. In the end, he had only one choice. Gin Ichimaru was to stay as a resident of the Back-Alley Shoppe. All the while, he would be monitored for anything unusual, and Kisuke had a sinking suspicion the sly snake would have no qualms about that...

...Not after this...


	4. Interlude I – Won't the Dead Man Die?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dead man told some tales...and so, he pays for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Endless wind..._  
>  —Saybia, "Snake Tongued Beast"

They came out of nowhere, the screams of bloody murder. Jolted from his nap, Kisuke jumped up and scampered to the source: the infirmary. He arrived at the doorway, but went no further in, frozen in shock, paling at the horrific scene before him.

One orb bled, the other poured reddish tears. There were no eyes, just white sclera with red veins within their pools. Every chest wound had reopened, bleeding, as were every orifice, creating a sanguine puddle around the bed. Ichimaru's skin was deathly white from the loss of blood, but his visible blue-green veins pulsed from his intense heart rate. His body had arched back, convulsing and limbs twitching with his mouth open and burbling with blood within the mask. Somehow, impossibly, his once so near non-existent reiatsu had spiked to the level of a Gotei captain...and was rising.

It was unreal, something out of a ghastly horror. The rapid, loud beeping in the room from the monitors only made the situation all the more so. Intently focused on the convulsing form, Kisuke didn't even notice Tessai, Yoruichi, Jinta, and Ururu had approached from behind and were also watching in equal fright. But he fought through his horrified stupor, swiftly approaching the bed.

The moment he reached Ichimaru's side, however, he stumbled, gasping in surprise as the unexpectedly powerful reiatsu pressed against him, as if trying to force him to the ground; behind him, Jinta and Ururu collapsed to the ground, choking. A loud, cringe-inducing ripping sound emitted from the depths of Ichimaru's body, and Kisuke removed his mask the moment the man's intolerable, rasping scream filled the air.

Helpless, all Kisuke could do was hold him to the bed, as he had clawed at his chest and already managed to cause bleeding, deeply raised marks on his skin. Abruptly, a throaty, almost choking sound emitted from his mouth as he ceased arching. Instead, he desperately writhed for a moment or so against Kisuke's hold, then switched to jolting, and finally violently convulsed before going deathly still. A beeping sound from one of the monitors droned, which seemed to snap Tessai out of his own stupor as he quickly approached. But Kisuke remained still, eyes focused on Ichimaru's limp head. He had a horrible feeling...

And just as he feared, the droning suddenly ceased, followed instead by steady beeps.

The man was still  **alive**.

Jolting, Ichimaru coughed up blood as he struggled to breathe, eyes still rolled into his head, and his body only shuddering from the shock and strain as he slowly stabilized from the attack.

_Stabilized_.

...Why couldn't this dead man die?

Without waiting for orders, Jinta and Ururu, who had returned after being taken away by Yoruichi, slowly and soundlessly retreated from behind her. They returned shortly with mops, BLEACH, and more solution to clean the floor and bed. Yoruichi remained in the doorway, lips pursed in a frown as she watched.

Covered from mouth to waist in blood, Ichimaru only remained in the soiled bed long enough for his lungs to be cleaned before he was moved to a cot, and then stripped of his bloodstained clothes. While Tessai treated his reopened wounds, Kisuke cleaned the equipment, and Ichimaru was put back on support with a new mask. Once done, Kisuke came to Tessai's side as he examined the extent of their patient's worsened condition.

Ichimaru had screamed himself hoarse, his throat raw and larynx ripped. The stress on his eyes rendered him blind in his right, and it was bandaged. His vomited blood was also abnormal, as both Tessai and Kisuke could see some clear substance in it when examined closely. When poked at, the substance retained its "shape", not fluid like the blood it traveled in, and had a very faint shine to it. And then, of course, there was the something within his chest, near his heart, that was still preventing Tessai from healing him internally. Whatever it was, it was foreign, powerful and had to be the cause of Ichimaru's condition.

This prompted Kisuke to briefly leave and make use of his new device. It was similar to an x-ray, a horizontal monitor on a wheeled, adjustable podium with a small keypad attached to its side. The monitor itself had a posable neck that could be moved in any direction and some distance from its post. Behind the monitor was what resembled ventilation holes. Rolling it to the side of the cot, Kisuke lowered the podium so the monitor was closer to the floor, and then positioned the monitor over Ichimaru's bare chest.

Tapping his chin, Kisuke's fingers hovered over the keypad. "...This is just a prototype," he murmured to Tessai, "but it should work..." He then typed in some keys, and the monitor blinked to life. Yoruichi, just as curious as they were, came over as they peered at the screen...

...and three hearts skipped two beats at the object embedded within the dead center of Ichimaru's chest.

Slightly spherical...shining...powerful... **DANGEROUS**...

Blood drained from Kisuke's face for the second time that morning. "...Im...impossible..." he uttered.

"Then just what are we looking at...Kisuke...?" Yoruichi asked, though her tone was monotone with shock as he stared at the monitor.

Humming deeply, Tessai frowned. "...That does resemble...it...a bit much..." he softly commented.

Kisuke's expression went blank. Slowly, he sunk back, staring off at nothing. "...How is it even...How can it even...Why is it doing this to him...?" he murmured to himself. His train of thought ran a mile a minute, sifting through various possibilities. "Though...perhaps..."

"Kisuke?"

He glanced up at Yoruichi, whose expression demanded answers. "...It's part of him, now," he explained. "I'm...not quite sure...how or whyit's doing this to him, not yet, but this explains everything— his seeming inability to die despite all of his attacks and wounds, his ability to recover, albeit far from one-hundred percent..."

"So that is...it?" she asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question, as they all knew the answer.

Sighing, the storeowner shook his head. He looked both disconcerted and saddened. "...What else can it be...?"

The three remained still, watching the screen out of the corner of their eyes. What did this mean, and how the hell did it happen...?

-:Edth:C:-

After Ichimaru was cleaned, dried and redressed, he was put back to a clean bed. Despite all the blood he had lost, his body had much of it gained back in the short time they had him back in bed and reattached to his monitors. There was simply no logical explanation for that...

It was only a theory, but Kisuke believed Ichimaru was dying, no matter what the entity within him did. It could heal the important organs, could keep him "alive", in the sense of just barely able to function, but he was regardless teetering on the precipice of death...

Kisuke's eyes closed, slowly shaking his head as he observed the younger man from afar.

...Such a cruel fate...

A golden orb glanced at him from his childhood friend. "...So what are you doing to do with him? It's likely he won't ever truly recover..." said Yoruichi.

"I see no dire reason why he can't stay. At least here, we can keep an eye on him..." Kisuke opened his eyes, placing a hand underneath his chin. "There's also the...well...those elements in his story..."

"...What about it?"

For the sake and probable necessity of keeping the more blasphemous elements away Ururu and Jinta, only she, he, and Tessai knew the entirety of Ichimaru's story. It wasn't to protect the children so much as to keep them from worrying, as the very possibility of the story being true was enough to cause chills down the adults' backs.

He turned to her. "It's just a speculation, but what's happening to him may support it," he said, his expression grave. "Why else did it choose him when there were so many others we would consider ideal contenders at the time?"

* * *

Nearly a week soon passed since Ichimaru's debilitating attack and the adult members of the Back-Alley household were told of his story. Since then, though not of the same magnitude as the former, his attacks continued their unpredictable cycle. He was incoherent if he came to any level of consciousness, and such an event only lasted a few minutes. Kisuke came to the deduction the entity within Ichimaru's body was using him as a host, acting in the manner of a bastard parasite to drain him of his reiryoku and eat at his reishi to replenish its own "life force". Merely operating on basic necessity, it was likely the being didn't even realize what it was doing to its host...or maybe it did. All that could be done for Ichimaru was comfort him as he slowly, painfully, died.

During this time, regarding Ichigo's situation, Kisuke had planned to bring him to the Back-Alley for a much-needed discussion; of the horrible truth to his trial and how to avoid being led to his untimely death. Yoruichi was to assist, as someone adept with speed and espionage was required to carry out the plan, as well as Tessai for some spells. All they needed to begin was for the teen to wonder over where the Shōten was once located...which was easier said than done.

After failure upon failure, tweaking spells and attempting every inconspicuous cliché, it was only a day before the thickheaded teen's trial when he finally came to realize something was leading him to the Shōten and the unusual energy emitting from it. From the other side of the spell, Yoruichi waited for the teen to appear in the foreign land. A ripple appeared in an alley, and out came Ichigo himself, blinking in confusion and glaring at the empty street with his zanpakutō in hand.

Yoruichi couldn't repress a small smile as the teen was just in the process of swearing when she knocked him unconscious. She held him up with a single arm to prevent him from hitting the ground, then slung him over her shoulder, took Zangetsu in hand, and returned to the Back-Alley Shoppe. When she arrived, however, she was greeted with anxious faces and disturbed frowns. The former was out of worry they wouldn't be able to reach the teen in time. The latter was because...

Ichimaru was missing, along with his zanpakutō.

Once the initial shock passed, she went off to hunt him down while Ichigo was placed on a mat in one of the many empty rooms in the back of the shop. He awoke shortly afterwards, dizzy from the blow to his head, and not in the best of moods. That passed once Kisuke became deadly serious, and thus commenced the continuation between former teacher and student.

Meanwhile, Yoruichi was led to Ichimaru's location with the help of a tracker Kisuke placed on him. The tracking device took the form of a small wristwatch and it showed an accurate map of her position and where he was located. Initially, she was surprised at the distance he had traveled, as he was at the county's seashore, nearly upon the water itself. Intent on reaching him as soon as possible, she used shunpō to arrive at his destination in just a few minutes.

-:Edth:C:-

It was not easy to get out of the house, never mind the fact there was an inviting, open window within the infirmary itself. It was not from trying to safely unhook himself from the IV and safely remove the tube in his chest; that was easy once he was coherent enough to think. The struggle was to move on his own, to stand, to walk...His body felt lifeless and stretched so thin, a sensation that increased a tenfold once he actually made it outside. The light breeze of air seemed to pass through him, and sometimes it felt powerful enough to knock him over.

Never in his life had he felt so debilitated. He knew he lost a substantial amount of body weight, and if memory served right, he hadn't eaten anything since he arrived in Kisuke's care, but...was his body really in such pathetic condition...?

Fortunately, his reiatsu was low enough that he remained undetected, and he was not in a gigai. Why Kisuke, intelligent a man as he was, hadn't used precautionary measures to prevent his possible escape was beyond him. Was it possible it was thought he wouldn't try to, or couldn't leave? His zanpakutō was even with him; he was surprised when he saw it right within some arm reach on the bedside table. But he was not cocky; he knew Kisuke's character too well to underestimate him, and the man probably knew he had escaped moments after he left.

So, he didn't bother going far, having only intended to get some fresh air from the start. He pushed himself, using legs that hadn't been used in over a month in light flash steps to traverse the town until he made it to the seaside.

Not sure just how far he had traveled, but unable to care, he rested against the low embankment, directly within the water atop an outcropping of rock, and let the cool ocean air clear his mind. Once truly conscious, he came to realize some things...

He was alive. Alive, that is, to the extent that he could think, could feel, could breathe, could move...Why? He recalled the conversation with Kisuke, but scarcely remembered consciously speaking to him. That memory seemed almost as if he had run on autopilot, answering questions like an automaton and saying basic command functions. Curious.

His last vivid recollection was when he was in the alley, fading, welcoming death, and saddened when death did not take him. His hand traveled idly to his zanpakutō, grasping it, frowning as it, too, felt...lifeless.

Shinsō...

He did not want this. He didn't want to be alive. This wasn't what he had intended to happen; he remembered saying such to Kisuke. He didn't think he would see "after" Aizen's death, nor had he wanted to. It was always his intention to kill the bastard and die with him, never to live afterwards. Only more pain, more suffering, and more chaos awaited him, now.

At the dull throb in his chest, he grimaced. And this thing within him...Now it prevented him from dying. Even if he wanted to, even if he so desired...it wouldn't answer his pleas until after it was done with him...

He exhaled heavily, daring to attempt to enter his inner world, but the real world spun instead, causing him to groan and grimace from the pain. More than anything, his desire to converse with his zanpakutō, and the inability to do so, was the most distressing. During the many long years under Aizen's influence, in the man's presence and acting by his side, she was the only reason he stayed remotely sane...She was his pillar of strength, his soul companion, his dearest friend...

Why...?

-:Edth:C:-

Yoruichi watched him at a distance. She, like Kisuke, was a little more concerned he would hurt himself than threaten others. There was just something about him that conveyed disinterest in such things...for the moment; she was well aware how dangerous and unpredictable he was. She tensed upon seeing his pale hand grasp his zanpakutō, but quickly realized he was lamenting his inability to converse with it. There was a sadness that surrounded him, and, though abated, anger...and hate. He otherwise seemed asleep, leaning against the embankment and body limp as each breath for air caused him to slightly tremble with effort.

...Such a mysterious man...

"Yer presence...seems obvious ta me," his voice startled her out of her thoughts, "which is strange...considerin' who ya are, Shihōin."

She made a low scoff, though a small smile was on her face in appreciation of his senses, and appeared at his side in midair. He briefly glanced up at her with a smile, undamaged eye slanted open.

"...Just wanted some fresh air," he explained innocently, bangs in his eye as the breeze played through his hair. His voice was strained and low, nowhere near the playful tone he was so known for, but at least he could form words (even though he shouldn't have). "Wasn't plannin' on...runnin' away fer real. My mind...ain't that messed up. Yet."

She leaned back against the embankment, watching him while crossing her arms. He was still sickly pale; his body, sharp and skeletally as it was, seemed slightly more eerily fragile, yet here he was, having made it such a distance from the shop. It could only be the entity within him allowing him to manage these otherwise impossible feats in his condition.

"I'm surprise you managed to move at all," she said, "especially after that bout."

His smile slightly faltered, and she would have missed it had she not been watching his face. "Ah. I...kinda remember that. Not...pleasant," he said softly, massaging the center of his chest in small circles. "I was tryin' ta enter my inner world when that happened...I think. Maybe this...thing...within me don't like that."

Her brows furrowed. So, he already knew it was in him... "Why would it?"

"Mm, dunno. Maybe it sees it as...recovery." He made a slight grimace, and she could have sworn his reiatsu spiked for just a second. "...After all...keepin' me alive's different...than lettin' me...recover..." he said, his voice lowering to a strained murmur. After a moment of silence, he stopped massaging his chest, clenching it instead as he moved off the embankment, groaning softly.

His reiatsu was definitely spiking this time. As he was clearly on the verge of another attack, she took him by his shoulder to help him stand. "Next time, if you want to leave the house, don't go so far away," she chided gently, distracting him from the pain she could see causing his trembles to worsen. He merely gave a light, strained chuckle in response.

Taking his arm and slinging it over her shoulders, she ignored his attempted protests and brought him to his feet, but his legs gave out and he nearly fell into the water. Frowning, she hoisted him up and into her arms, startled by his light weight, and went into lightning-fast flash steps to return home.

His coughs had died down, though he was having some trouble breathing and was nearly unconscious when they arrived at the shop. Still able to sense Ichigo inside, she carried Ichimaru through the house, but avoided the room the teen was in. With any luck, Ichimaru's reiatsu was too low and Ichigo's senses weren't so adept that he would become aware of his presence. She spotted Ururu in the kitchen and beckoned her to follow with a tilt of her head. The girl tailed her as she entered the infirmary, disturbed at the wheezes for breath coming from the man in her arms.

She placed him on the bed, hooking him to all his life support and stabilizers as she addressed the girl. "I need you to watch him until he's stable," she said, focused on pale man and his eye as it blinked in and out of consciousness. "Can you do that?"

"Of course, ma'am," Ururu replied, assisting with placing the pads on the man's chest as Yoruichi worked on the ventilator, having seen it done many times by now.

Before Yoruichi could thank her, Ichimaru began to violently convulse.

-:Edth:C:-

He startled upon finding himself in the familiar landscape of his sanctuary. Every day of the past some-hundred years since he joined Aizen and since he first conversed with his zanpakutō, he would visit this place. A day going by was too long a time since he last saw his companion, and so it dawned upon him with a rush of relief and worry when he realized he had returned to his inner world. Almost everything seemed right with the world, as more trunks were visible, the sky wasn't black, though there were still cracks in every impossible surface...

...Where was Shinsō?

His inner world appeared as open twilight sky filled with enormous, horizontal tree trunks stretching out for as far as the eye could see. Growing from the trunks were branches, though some were so twisted, unique and varying in size, they were almost exactly like huge trees, themselves. These "branches" were abundant with vegetation, some so densely packed, they could hide something quite large within their canopies...

Though he couldn't see her, for the first time since he arrived in Kisuke's care, he could sense her presence, yet unable to pinpoint just where she was. He took a few steps forward, scanning the horizon for his zanpakutō spirit, and then rushed to the curve of the trunk's underside, looking down to the endless scape of sky and tree below.

"...Shinsō...?"

Silence met him, and he closed his eye, exhaling softly.

A familiar, feminine chuckle was made close to his ear, and before he could react, he was pushed off the side of the trunk. At first startled, the realization slowly set in. He smiled, turning around so he was falling back, looking up at his companion.

Shinsō was a sight to behold, a leviathan of a white serpent with red eyes and long silver hair along the sides and underside of her body. Head and tail hanging lazily off the side of the tree trunk, she looked down at him with a playful twinkle in her dark eyes, which were unbothered by the hornlike protrusions over each.

Chuckling, he flipped so he landed on his feet upon a lower trunk, continuing to look up at her. "Shinsō," he repeated, relief heavy in his voice and his smile fond as he opened his eye.

"Greetings, Gin. It's been too long since we last spoke," she said, though her mouth remained closed, tongue flicking out instead. Her voice, whispery and low, was devoid of the acerbic bite he was used to. "Did you miss me?" she asked teasingly.

Though he knew the question was rhetoric, he answered, "Thought o' ya every wakin' moment, partner. Was real uncomfortable not bein' able ta hear yer voice in m'soul."

Humming in appreciation, she stretched down to one of the other trunks to approach him. "You're conflicted, Gin. Your soul screams in anguish, like a child throwing a tantrum," she said, though her tone was still playful. "Do you feel...wronged?"

Slowly, his smile devolved into a thin line. She went straight to the point, unlike what he tended to do. "...I'm alive. 'Course I feel wronged..." he murmured softly, pain clouding his expression. "Now we're both hurtin', an' in ways...in ways that shouldn't even be possible. Don't ya feel wronged?"

She was atop the trunk directly above him now, looking down at him. Her large, unblinking orbs met his, so alike each other, yet so different. And, like his, they were akin to an open window, allowing him to see the shared pain she carried in the depths of her being. "You know," she said simply.

He broke contact with the sanguine eyes, looking away. "...There's nothin' fer us," he murmured. "Better off dead, an' ya know it."

"Then why are you holding to life, now?" she asked harshly, the familiar bite returning to her echoing voice. "What drives you?"

Shinsō. Truly a snake tongue. Harsh, unrelenting...

Quiet, he seemed to ponder for a moment. He then shook his head, closing his eye. "No. There's nothin'..."

"A debt, perhaps?" she asked smoothly.

"There's nothin', Shinsō," he persisted with a soft hiss.

She made a sound of indifference. "Gin," she began, but suddenly they both trembled from a spasm, breaking into screams of pain.

No! Not again!

Once more, the world began to tremble and quake, and the disintegration of his sanctuary continued. On his knees, clenching his chest, he saw Shinsō falling back from the tree trunk as it disappeared. Their eyes met again, and he reached out to her. "Shins—!"

He cried out, falling as the trunk disappeared beneath him, and was once again forced into consciousness.

-:Edth:C:-

Jolting awake, he saw the worried face of the girl, Ururu, sitting in the bedside chair. Ignoring her, he grasped at his chest as it stung, murmuring, "Shinsō..."

" _I'm here_ ," whispered the indistinct voice in his soul.

Though his body wracked with small convulsions, he could sense this attack wasn't going to increase much more than its current intensity. That didn't explain why he was thrown from out of his inner world, or why it hurt her as well. His fingers massaged the center of his chest, and he grimaced in discomfort, closing his eye.

Sound was watery and garbled, so he only thought he heard Ururu speak to someone, and then the squeak of the chair as...perhaps she moved? He focused on remaining conscious, guided by the faint but comfortingly calm voice of his zanpakutō.

Once the pinpricks and quavers passed, his breathing was labored. His hand rested limply on his chest, eye half-closed as he recovered. He wasn't sure how long he laid there, motionless and half-awake, before he took notice of a familiar figure passing by the foot of his bed to come around to his left side, checking his condition. It was then he slowly brought himself back, fighting through his hazy mind and the ghost pains to address the man now beginning to walk away.

Though severely weakened, and sans his hearing and sight on occasions, his remaining senses stayed strong. While approaching the shop with Yoruichi, he took notice of the unusual reiatsu that belonged to a young Ichigo Kurosaki. The reiatsu brought back memories, causing old emotions and locked away thoughts to return to him. And then something new: he was strangely curious to know how the teen fared in the past few months. How had killing Aizen affected him? Were his heart and mind still stoutly resilient? What was he doing now...?

Kisuke was just a step from the doorway when he heard the faint murmuring of his name from behind. Turning, he met the dim but unusually attentive slanted eye, as if its owner had something he wanted to know, questions of his own. "Yes, Mr. Ichimaru?"

Ichimaru fought to keep his eye slanted open, as he was obviously fighting sleep. "...Ichigo..." he murmured, and his heavy eyelid closed nevertheless. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "...Is he...alright?"

Kisuke frowned, finding the question odd. Why would he care...? "His powers will soon leave him, as the technique he used to defeat Aizen was fatal to them, and his life is currently in danger. Tomorrow is the day of his trial before the Central 46," the shopkeeper explained, walking further back into the room. He then sighed, his expression grave at the reminder. "...I believe tomorrow's outcome will not be in his favor..."

"They're...gonna...kill 'im?" Ichimaru asked, a slight trace of disappointment in his voice.

"...I'm afraid they might," Kisuke admitted softly. Though there was a plan in place, nothing was guaranteed. There was also the unlikely but unknown possibility Ichigo's own episodes could kill him.

Long had the scientist found a connection between Ichigo and Ichimaru's attacks. It wasn't mere coincidence their souls were in such debilitated conditions, and if Kisuke's hypothesis was correct, the teen could have been in the same situation Ichimaru was in...

Blinking out of his thoughts, he realized the other man had fallen asleep once again. After eying the zanpakutō in his lap, the shopkeeper flipped his fan back over his mouth and silently retreated from the room.


	5. He, Too, Shall Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A debt is repaid.

The next early morning, Yoruichi left for Karakura Town, as it was the day of Ichigo's trial. That feeling of something going wrong, nothing being guaranteed despite the plan they devised, had increased a tenfold since she left. Kisuke had the strangest harrowing feeling there was something they didn't know that would be a deciding factor in the success of the plan. This was just too easy...

Many hours after Yoruichi had left, Kisuke was alerted by yet another device hidden on Ichimaru that was only to activate in the event the man left the house. When he arrived at the infirmary, however, he saw Ururu looking out the window. The bed on which Ichimaru slept bedded wire leads, pads, and the oxygen mask instead of his body. All of the equipment was shut off. He immediately figured Ururu had let him go, and stood idly in the doorway for a minute or so. He remained calm, knowing that, although ditzy, the girl would only do such a thing if she had a legitimate reason. And a legitimate reason she had...

-:Edth:C:-

_The girl froze in the hall. Slowly, she turned to her left where the slanted eye watched her from within the room._

_Unlike Jinta, who generally avoided the infirmary as if it housed the plague, Ururu Tsumugiya wasn't hesitant to approach Ichimaru. The one thing that frightened her about him, however, was his strange aura. Somehow, though she knew he was a Shinigami, he felt somewhat...off; sometimes, he felt powerful in a distantly familiar way, sometimes, he felt foreign..._

_...but it was something entirely different to see him moving on his own, especially in what was clearly the motion to leave the infirmary through the window._

_Caught red-handed, Ichimaru simply stared back at the girl, standing before the window with his broken zanpakutō in hand. In the second he had sensed the girl approaching, he decided he could do one of two things before she came into view._

_He could cast Hakufuku on her, but it would be unwise to "attack" the girl. He could immobilize her, but that went with the former option. Or...he could just try to..."appeal" to her._

_He went with the latter._

_"...Ururu," he nearly sang, smiling deeply, "I won't tell if ya don't."_

_At this, her eyes slightly widened and she nervously grasped at her dress. That could have been a not-so veiled threat. "...Um...I don't—"_

_"I've got ta go, ya see," he interrupted, glancing out the window, but keeping the girl in his peripheral vision. "Today's the day y'all were plannin' fer Ichigo ta leave Karakura Town, right? Well, that ain't gonna work. The Secret Mobile Corps probably got to 'im already."_

_The girl's lips parted as she was either about to say something, or, though it was somewhat hard to decipher with her vague expression, in slight surprise. She then glanced away, blinking in thought. "...You want to...help Ichigo...?" she asked carefully._

_Instead of answering, he simply grinned. "Y'all didn't plan this very well," he playfully scolded._

_She met his unseen gaze once more. At first, she was going to risk it and alert Kisuke, in his lab, or Tessai, somewhere outside. But then she realized...Ichimaru's eye._

_To his surprise, she slowly stepped into the room, her posture nervous and he could practically feel her tension, but her gaze was keenly focused on him. As she did, he seemed to take notice of what she was doing in a heartbeat, as his grin was replaced with a smile, which slowly dissolved into a thin line the closer she came._

_Soon they were just a few feet apart, and his expression was void as he looked upon her. With a child's curiosity in her voice, head tilted to the side, she softly asked, "May I see your eye, sir?"_

_But he knew she knew. It wasn't too much of a surprise, when he thought about it; children usually noticed things that the mind of an adult could only realize at the last moment. She wouldn't be too much different, if not better..._

_Though he would later analyze his action after she spoke, in the moment, he couldn't help himself. A smaller smile, more serene, but no less eerie, spread on his lips._

_And his eye completely opened._

-:Edth:C:-

As Kisuke looked out the window, watching a garganta close in the distant sky, he considered this enigma that was Gin Ichimaru. Dangerous; he had indeed threatened Ururu. Uncanny; how did he manage to unhook himself from the medical equipment he was attached to? And then, of course...

...who would have initially guessed thatwas the reason why he kept his eyes hidden from the world...?

* * *

On the border of Naruki City and Karakura Town, Ichimaru stood on a street pole, eyeing the streets in the far distance. His usual smile was upon his face, eye slanted in the manner that gave him one of his most common nicknames, "fox-face". What was left of Shinsō hung from the belt about his waist in her sheath, and his fingers idly caressed her hilt. He was still wearing in the white yukata Tessai had dressed him in, and wore bloodstained, once-white sandals, the very same sandals he wore when Kisuke found him in the alley...It came as a slight shock that he found them at all...

Today, his thoughts revolved around one young man. To his surprise, he awoke feeling oddly disappointed and conflicted. So much he tried to ignore was facing him head on, just by simply existing. At the thrum under his fingertips, he tilted his head to the side.

" _A debt, perhaps?_ "

The words of his zanpakutō came to the front of his mind. He hummed softly in dismissal, but they lingered.

The thought of owing a debt irked him. Everything he did in his life he had accomplished on his own, through many sacrifices and the loss of many lives. "Help" and "assistance" weren't in his vocabulary, not in that way.

Yet how easily did he require that mere child's help that day, the day all he had done was meant to come to fruition? And so, this child, this boy, was the subject of his thoughts. In this situation, to eliminate the ties that bound him to another and rid him of this nagging sentiment, he was to resort to a foreign tactic: assistance.

He had gone over the ways he could do such a thing, filtering through his knowledge. Whatever Kisuke and the others had planned for Ichigo was not going to work, not as long as the teen carried his badge; he meant to say something of it the day before, but had fallen asleep before he could remember to do so. Everything they ever said, anything Ichigo ever did, was all overheard by the Gotei. He thought otherwise in the beginning, but bearing in mind the captain who authorized the badge's functionality, Ichimaru was quite sure not even Kisuke fully understood its true nature.

His eye slanted open as he saw another Hollow appear from out of a garganta. Something was indeed amiss. Such a fact wasn't obvious by the over-abundance of Hollows or black flits that were the Onmitsukidō troop about. Even at his distance, the massive reiatsu of Kurosaki Ichigo fluctuated in and permeated the air. With such abnormal fluctuations, his reiatsu was on the brink of waning to nonexistence. It would be a terrible time for him to enter a fight, which would be ideal for whoever was sent to kill him.

With an audible sigh, Ichimaru unsheathed his zanpakutō and disappeared from immediate sight, using shunpō to reappear some distance on the ground, and sped into the fray. He took advantage of the Onmitsukidō troop's distraction with the Hollows to easily slip past them, though if any were in his path, he didn't hesitate to use Shinsō's broken blade to forcibly remove them. He would wait until there were no other witnesses, then appear behind them and cut their jugulars. But he had to be fast, pressuring himself with flash steps to remain out of sight, out of mind...

Just a few miles out from his initial starting place, his chest began to burn, and he ignored it, continuing to breathe from his nose to slightly ease off the pain. He reached out with his senses to the distance ahead, the source of Ichigo's reiatsu, and frowned upon sensing the Gotei 13's 2nd Division Captain Suì-Fēng near him. In the teen's condition, someone nimble with a two-hit deathblow was his perfect adversary.

Scoffing softly at the thought, Ichimaru dodged behind a tree, nearly catching the eye of an Onmitsukidō trooper. His back to the trunk, he took this moment to catch his breath, slightly grimacing while the burning in his chest increased. He then disappeared, overexerting himself to use superbly fast shunpō and reappear behind the trooper. The man didn't even have a chance to orient his location before falling to ground, head nearly cleaved off. Reappearing on the ground again, Ichimaru pressed on.

This continued —dodging, weaving, and killing— as he approached Ichigo's location. And as he continued to use shunpō and exert himself, the weaker he became. Soon, he was nearly upon the teen, and the abrupt rise in Ichigo's reiatsu nearly blew him off his feet. He steadied himself, stopping only to reorient his bearing and rest against a tree. Panting, his brow furrowed as he took this into consideration. It felt as if Ichigo had gone into bankai, something unnecessary if the teen was at his normal level of strength.

Grimacing, his slanted eye glanced up as an Onmitsukidō trooper spotted him. Quickly, even for one in his condition, he shifted, planting his feet firmly on the ground and thrusted his arm forward as Shinsō shot out to impale the man in the dead-center forehead. As the dark-clad figure fell to the ground, he dashed away, pressing forward.

By the time he arrived at what was left of the verdant and land where the fight was occurring, he could only sense Suì-Fēng. Ichigo was still fighting, but Ichimaru had lost his reiatsu shortly after sensing him use bankai. Fortunately, there were no Onmitsukidō troopers in the area, likely because of Ichigo's high reiatsu and how senseless it would be for anyone notcaptain-class to fight against him.

Practically wheezing from overexertion, Ichimaru held Shinsō limply in his hand and leaned against a tree once more to stabilize. Giving himself a mere second of respite, he took a few more flash steps forward, only to abruptly halt and collapse to his knees. The merciless force of dark reiatsu overwhelmed him, and with a wide eye upon hearing the wailing Hollow cry, realized it belonged to none but Ichigo. With a grimace and a bloody cough, he forced himself to his feet and continued.

Just abruptly as it came, the reiatsu disappeared, causing him to stumble. He could see Suì-Fēng's prone form at his distance and the Arrancar-like being that was inevitably Ichigo if the orange mane was anything to go by alone. Watching Ichigo go still and fall forward, he paused, slightly opening his eye. For a moment, and being unable to sense him making it seem all the more likely, it seemed almost as if the teen had...died. The very possibility was enough to spur him on; he rushed towards the fallen body, and had just the mind to sheath his sword, much as he wanted to run it through the woman, as Suì-Fēng readied the death blow.

He appeared behind her, so close he was practically talking in her ear. "...I wouldn't do that~"

She froze and swiftly spun around, but he nimbly danced out of her sight. That was barely necessary, however, as she collapsed to the ground, pushed to her limit. To keep her there, he quickly raised his reiatsu, focusing it on her, and she once again began to choke from the overpowering pressure. While she struggled, he glanced over Ichigo's body. The teen was bleeding rather heavily, even from his mouth, and the telltale butterfly symbol in the center of his chest indicated where he had been stung.

"Ah..." Frowning, Ichimaru looked down upon Suì-Fēng's shuddering form, moving to stand in front of her. "So ya really tried ta kill 'im after all," he mused aloud.

She couldn't even look up with the tremendous pressure upon her. "Y...you..." she began weakly, her voice barely a whisper, and she tried to move her head, but to no avail.

Seeing her so weak and helpless caused a soft chuckle to escape him. The new Central 46 severely underestimated the teen if they thought he was so helpless she would be enough to defeat him. As she was no longer a threat or of interest, Ichimaru cast Hakufuku, slightly grimacing when the feat stung, before coming to Ichigo's side. "Bye-bye~" he chirped, ignoring her. When she went still behind him, he let off his reiatsu and kneeled beside the teen's body, only to nearly keel over.

Grasping his chest, he grimaced, trembling with pain. Every inch of his body felt alight with a tingling, burning flame, and his vision slightly blurred, but he fought against unconsciousness. He had pushed himself far beyond his limits, today...

"Ichimaru?"

He shook his head. "I'm...fine...Shihōin..." He smiled weakly at Ichigo's unconscious form, Yoruichi's figure appearing by his side. "...We need...ta get 'im home..."

Though she frowned, surprised he was even there, she briefly scanned his shaking frame before looking over the teen's body. He may have carried shallow wounds, sans the stab in his chest, but she saw the fight at a distance, so knew most of Ichigo's wounds were internal. Lips pursed in thought, she observed the three incapacitated bodies around her and shook her head. Suì-Fēng would be all right; her troop was approaching, alerted by her initially fading reiatsu. Ichigo's condition was unknown; he needed to be examined and immediately placed back in his body. Ichimaru, on the other hand...

Before she had the chance to form words, Ichimaru softly chuckled, head lowered and breathing with great effort. "...Well...guess we're...equal, now...Ichigo-kun," he murmured to the unconscious teen in Japanese, as if he could be or might be heard. "Ya killed Aizen...and I saved yer life..." He swayed on his knees, but didn't fall over.

Narrowing her eyes, Yoruichi watched this one-sided conversation with interest. So that's what this was all about. "How did you know...?" she asked, kneeling to lift Ichigo into her arms.

Ichimaru heaved a sigh, grimacing, and slowly stood up. "...Urahara," he responded softly, eye still slanted, but his smile was gone and there was a noticeable sheen from sweat upon his skin. "I meant...ta tell y'all yesterday...but ya gotta get rid of his badge." He ran alongside her with shunpō as they left the area, ignoring his protesting body.

"...Why?" she asked warily, Ichigo slung over her shoulder.

Ichimaru spat out blood, brows furrowed in disgust as he ran. He really was getting tired of tasting his own blood. Normally, such a thing meant he was against a powerful opponent, something rare and honestly quite exciting, but this was a different circumstance entirely. This meant weakness. This meant inability.

Placing his hand over his chest, feeling an attack boiling within him, he glanced at her. "...The Gotei...uses that ta monitor 'im. Whatever plan...ya had...didn't work, right? That's 'cause when y'all...were discussin' what to do...they overheard everythin'," he explained at her question, continuing to speak in a slightly strained tone and murmured voice.

Though looking forward, she stole a few furrowed glances into his direction. That explained why he came in spite of his condition. "...Sounds possible," she acknowledged without a hint of hesitance, as such was true, "but how do you know this?"

This brought back the full-force of his signature smile, eerier than ever with his sickly appearance. "I got my ways o' knowin' things...~"

She made a wry expression, glancing at him once more, and was about to speak when they both suddenly stopped, eyes focused ahead. A Shinigami was approaching their exact location. Ichimaru didn't wait to be told, quickly dashing away whereas she remained impassive.

Seconds after he left, the advancing Shinigami spotted the orange amongst the green and appeared before her. Safely at a distance in the branches of a heavily vegetated tree, Ichimaru observed while she began to talk to the older man he immediately recognized to be Isshin. His smile then widened as the teen was taken into his father's arms and warmly, desperately embraced before both disappeared from sight.

"...Aw," he murmured, leaning back. The trickle he felt down the side of his mouth was inevitably blood. He finally stopped fighting his body, causing his vision to swim, every muscle in his body to violently spasm, and his head to throb. Struggling for an inhale through his stinging chest, he gasped, "I think...I s-saw...some...th-thin'...r-real...rare..."

Eye rolling back, he fell over, out of the tree into Yoruichi's waiting arms.

* * *

She came to, eyes fluttering open the second she regained consciousness. Though her mind was slightly hazy, having trained herself, she immediately observed her surroundings. Upon recognizing her location, however, she merely sighed, causing her silent bystander to grace her with a small smile.

"Welcome back, Fēng-taicho," Unohana Retsu greeted warmly. She stood beside the bed upon which her patient laid in, arms hidden in her bellowing sleeves.

"...Unohana-taicho," Suì-Fēng said, "how long have I been asleep?"

"Only a few days. How do you feel?"

Brows furrowing, she growled, "As if I've slept for too long." Closing her eyes for a moment, composing herself, she then responded, "...Rested. I feel fine, thank you."

Humming in acknowledgement, Unohana watched the young captain beginning to sit upright. "You are completely healed, and have been for some time. What is the last thing you recall?" she asked.

The question froze Suì-Fēng in mid-motion, eyes staring vaguely at the sheets as her mind went back. In her mind's eye, a Hollow creature, much like an Arrancar, bore its haunting reiatsu upon her, soulless white orbs piercing into her being with rage and the desire to kill. She shuddered at the memory, and then frowned as she tried to remember what happened afterwards. The last thing she remembered was...

She looked up at Unohana, continuing to frown. "...The boy...Kurosaki. Is he alive?" she asked, but dreaded the answer.

Wisely keeping a neutral expression on her face with just the hints of sorrow, the healer nodded. "Yes, or so it is believed. However his reiatsu has disappeared and he has not reappeared in his hometown since then," she responded.

The Onmitsukidō commander scowled, looking away. Her mission was a failure, then. How could that have been? She was certain she had the upper hand at that last moment. Closing her eyes, she tried harder to remember...

" _Someone else came..._ "

She quirked a brow at Suzumebachi's words. " _Someone? Who?_ "

" _...Someone who should_ _not_ _have been there..._ "

She inquired more from her zanpakutō, but Suzumebachi went silent. Turning back to Unohana, she opened her eyes. "Someone helped the boy," she said, "though...I don't remember who. It's likely Hakufuku was used."

Nodding, Unohana had figured such. There was a strange reiatsu lingering about the young captain when she was brought into the 4th Division...It was somehow familiar, yet...disturbingly unfamiliar.

Once the 2nd Division captain was up and about, all captains were summoned for a meeting regarding the supposed failed execution of Kurosaki Ichigo. There, discussions of who killed the Onmitsukidō troopers during that time and where Ichigo had gone, as his body was missing, were prevalent. Eventually, after debating the culprits of the killings being any of the many exiles and criminals, it was eventually agreed the Vizards most likely did the deeds, including taking Ichigo away. There were no other orders from the Central 46 but to keep a distant eye on Ichigo's family and friends in case they began to act strangely or give hints to the teen's possible whereabouts.

Also, a certain 12th Division captain was told to keep his curious findings of the Kurosaki children away from the Central 46, at least until their involvement became necessary. Interestingly, he had little qualms about this, except of disappointment that he wouldn't be able to do anything with his new discovery...

* * *

The coolness of the air in his mouth registered into Ichimaru's wakening consciousness. The hiss of his support machines and familiar echoic beeps from the monitors came next, followed by a watery resonance he had come to associate with the sound of someone speaking. He remained still, allowing his senses to recover, though somehow his caretaker knew exactly when he regained consciousness.

Slowly, the congestion in his ears cleared, and he could hear his own breathing. He could sense he was once again hooked up to all of his life support, indicating he must have been asleep for a long span of time. He cracked his eye open, vision blurred, and saw the familiar figure sitting beside him in the chair.

"...Urahara..."

There was a heavy sigh before the man responded, "Mr. Ichimaru. I hope you realize you've violated your probation..."

Ichimaru made a soft sound akin to a scoff or curt chuckle. "Is that wha' this's called...?" he slurred in a murmur to himself as his eye closed. They were probably even warier of him than before, not that he minded. "...'Course I do," he acknowledged to Kisuke's statement.

"Why did you do a thing like that? What if you had an attack that left you incapacitated?" Kisuke asked, slowly fanning himself with that damned fan of his.

A lapse of silence ensued as this question took Ichimaru by surprise. He was expecting wary words or something of that nature, not worry. Before answering, he considered the various new reasons why Kisuke was being "nice" to him. "...Then that...would've been it...I guess," he said nonchalantly with just the beginnings of a small shrug. "...Ah...how long've I been out...?"

Not oblivious to the change in topic, the storeowner slightly raised a brow, but said nothing of it. "A few days," he answered.

Figuring such, Ichimaru hummed quietly, somehow still exhausted despite his long slumber.

"Do you want to know how many times you flatlined?"

"Nope."

"...Well...Mr. Kurosaki will live, thanks to your...timely intervention."

Lips quirking by Kisuke's choice of words, he went silent, uninterested in conversation and with nothing else to say, simply content the gnawing, annoying compulsion was over and done with. His caretaker, however, had other ideas.

Kisuke was told of everything that had happened those days ago in Karakura Town, including Yoruichi's deduction that Ichimaru was repaying a debt to Ichigo. Thanks to Ururu, the proposition didn't come as a surprise and Kisuke would have let the entire incident slide were it not for the unnecessary lives taken as a result.

An estimate of nine Onmitsukidō troopers were "mysteriously" killed during the time Suì-Fēng was confronting Ichigo, and, despite the obvious suggestion the killing blows were from Hollows, the last troopers to see those killed could only confirm a few were confronting Hollows before they wound up dead. That and, of course, the fact that the troopers weren't devoured.

"Regardless of your reasons for helping him, it was unnecessary to have killed members of the Onmitsukidō. They were no match for you and could have been dealt with without bloodshed," he said, calm and stern. Watching his patient carefully, he then asked, "Why did you kill them?"

His eye slanting opening, Ichimaru glanced at him, indifferent. "They were in the way," he said simply, albeit slowly, as if the question confused him, or he regarded it ridiculous.

Frowning, Kisuke flipped his fan over his mouth and nose. The words were said evenly, almost casually, without the slightest twitch of an eye or the smallest suggestion of any other nonverbal emotion. "...That is your justification?" he asked, careful to keep his voice neutral.

"If by that ya mean 'why'd ya kill 'em an' nobody in the past', I was ordered not to kill nobody in the past, unless I was, o'erwise, o' 'course. Now...I can do what I want..." Ichimaru seemed almost content with this, as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders at the realization he could "do what he wanted". After speaking, he closed his eye and continued to rest, but that was fine. His answers were all Kisuke needed to deduce just where he was, mentally.

His initial simple response proved he wouldn't hesitate to kill and would have absolutely no concern for what the reasons were, if there were any, if he had his own. From his manner about it, killing seemed like such a common thing, done so many times, and was perhaps as natural as breathing. To him, there was absolutely nothing wrong with taking someone's life.

Briefly closing his eyes, Kisuke sighed to himself. The man was just as dangerous as he had figured, and then some, as only after the second response did he realize an upsetting and unfortunate fact about Aizen's former accomplice...

"Mr. Ichimaru."

"...Yes...?"

Suddenly, the once calculating expression on Kisuke's face turned darkly serious. "I do not trust you, nor do I tolerate a threat to this household. You might not have noticed, but there is a device around your neck that will serve as your aid, alerting of any impending attacks, as well as a monitor," he explained, lowering his fan. "You are no longer permitted to leave the premises of the house without my or Mr. Tessai's explicit permission, is that understood?"

As he spoke, Ichimaru's closed eye had slowly slanted open, shown by the formerly downward crescent somehow seeming to slightly turn upwards. Just as slowly, his lips spread into a wide, face-splitting smile after Kisuke finished speaking. "Like the hauntin' presence o' Death itself, Urahara," he responded with the familiar playful, mocking inflection in his voice he was so known for.

"Also...I want to perform tests on you."

At this, his smile turned to a grin. "Oh? Ya believe me after all?"

Standing, Kisuke responded, "Yes, to an extent. It is at least obvious that you surpass the typical Shinigami. I'd like to find the answers to this myself." He then turned and wordlessly left the room, leaving his patient suddenly alone and lost in his thoughts.

Smiling, Ichimaru looked to the ceiling. Kisuke wasn't too much different from Aizen, after all. No wonder it was so easy to become used to the man's presence...

This thought swept the smile from his face. He then reached up and felt the smooth surface of a collar-like device around his neck. His hand then lowered to his chest, which throbbed at his touch. Slightly grimacing from the sensation, he closed his eye, sighing quietly as his mind wondered to the same dead-end, foreign and melancholic internal conflict Shinsō said his soul screamed of.

What was to happen now...?

How could he go about his intentions from here...?

And...was this so-called "living" worth it?


	6. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo awakens in his new home.

For the first few weeks after Ichigo's attempted assassination, all who were involved, either directly or indirectly, sensed a sort of uneasy calm settle between the invisible borders that made up their lives. In the world of souls, there was unrest in the Seireitei. Not much was said amongst the Shinigami who were considered friends or close companions once the disappearance of the recently branded criminal became common knowledge, but nothing needed to be said. Mere glances and an awkward silence between them spoke louder than words ever could.

There was no definite reason to mourn, panic or ready for a fight; the Onmitsukidō had reported both the teen's family and friends seemed as reasonably concerned and worried as they should have under normal circumstances of a person's sudden disappearance...much to Suì-Fēng's displeasure. With her still unable to deduce the actual culprit that killed her troopers and prevented her from killing the teen, she was grudgingly forced to consider Kurosaki Isshin had simply returned to his home after his release from the Nest of Maggots. But she wasn't convinced.

The unsaid question formulating in everyone's minds, regardless if Ichigo had been removed from Japan or not, was the same: was he dead, or was he alive? And if he was alive...they could only imagine the warring thoughts in his mind.

...In his eyes, had they betrayed him...?

The teenager in question, however, remained comatose. Not a twitch did he make nor a sound did he utter while sleeping under the Vizard's roof as the days turned to weeks. And though a short, blonde Vizard initially said something in disdain for having a human in their midst, no longer could she find a reason to be so obstinately irked by his presence. To the surprise of each of the Vizard once his inborn reiryoku stabilized, instead of having a nonexistent reiatsu, Ichigo had a new one that felt frighteningly familiar, but shouldn't have emitted from him, whatsoever...

Ichigo's family in Karakura Town, particularly his father, was restless. No longer was Isshin willing to play it safe, shrug off his consternation and apprehension towards the events that had transpired. Though both Karin and Yuzu were informed of Shinigami, the Quincy, Hollows, and the War in the months before, he revealed all and laid himself bare after their brother gave them the short and ugly synopsis just before disappearing. However, as his son had done, he refused to tell them where Ichigo had gone. For now.

The Kurosaki patriarch's life and the lives of his daughters returned to an uneasy, eerie normalcy, as much as reasonably possible, after Ichigo was covertly placed into the Vizard's care. Though not nearly as worried for them as he had been for Ichigo's well-being, Isshin was concerned for his daughters for more known reason than one. Karin, especially, was beginning to show signs of heightened spiritual powers, though there was nothing unusual about them as of yet. "Yet" being the operative word.

In the eyes of the general public who knew the Kurosaki family's situation, there shouldn't have been a reason for concern over what Central 46 might plot. But after a spotlight was literally placed on his son, Isshin's growing paranoia wasn't for naught...

* * *

On the outskirts of a small town in Japan, there was open grassland that surrounded the vast majority of a large, ruined complex building. Once an immense structure over five stories high, most of the sixth and seventh floors were somehow "scooped" out, leaving behind a rugged skeleton of what were once the floors' walls and making the building lean slightly forward. All left behind remained in ruins from the various elements exposed to them over time.

The rumor of the town was that the structure was haunted and or cursed, as over thirty years ago, some demonic creature supposedly attacked it, killing most of the inhabitants. Left behind was what looked akin to a giant footstep imprinted in the ground and rubble on the side of the gaping hole of the sixth and seventh floors. The area would have attracted attention from the locals if not for the dark aura that radiated from it, keeping all away from and nowhere close to the ruins.

The truth, of course, was that a Menos Grande had attacked. Being abandoned and disregarded, it made the perfect hideaway for, say...criminals and exiles of the Soul Society...

The outcast Vizard had discovered the complex years before the attempted assassination on Ichigo's life, before even the War and the public revelation of Aizen's treachery. At the time, they had decided to safeguard the locale for a time they would need it, and one of them had even gone so far as to buy the property to ensure nothing would happen to the structure. Their drastic measures were put to good use after the event months before. Since then, this fantastic building, ruined as it was, had become their new home. It was full of unused rooms, be it the living space was actually underground, massive and comfortable. Each of the Vizard and their guest had their own room, all accessible through the various entranceways from the ruins above, and two large spaces made up the training area and kitchen-cum-dining/living room.

Despite the reasons for their move, they, like Kisuke and his companions, had thoroughly prepared for the worst.

Currently, in the second largest room of the underground living space, a certain incensed, pigtailed Vizard grumbled her opinions. "But he's human," she complained, glaring towards the door to the room the teen in mention slept in. "Why the hell did you tell Isshin his kid would be allowed here no matter what, Shinji?"

For almost as long as the teen had been with them, which was now for a month and nearly two weeks, she had been about this tirade at least once every other day; an improvement since his strange reiatsu became known to them. And so, the tall, apron-wearing blonde ignored her as he carried a bag of groceries into the nearby area delegated as the dining room.

"Why don't you help me decide what to make for dinner instead of complaining about our guest?" he suggested in passing, expression deadpan.

An instant later, he was airborne, spinning towards the back of the room with the imprint of a sandal on his right cheek. Around him, the others ignored the outburst, going about their lazing.

As he landed in a mangled heap on the floor, Sarugaki Hiyori threw her sandal at him, screaming, "I'm not calling any HUMAN a guest of ours! Bad enough that Himegirl was brought to our home before, but this time, he'll be with us for years, possibly!" Clenching her teeth, she once again glared at the door. "...We don't even know if he'll be a Vizard when his powers return."

It was no use trying to placate her. They each knew her reasons for reacting so strongly towards one they had considered their kinsman just months before. Perhaps this was simply her way of coping...

"...Are you worried about Berry-tan, Hiyori-chan?" Mashirō asked softly, tucking her legs to her chest as she sat on the floor, watching Kensei lifting weights to the side of the room.

Making a sound akin to a scoff, Hiyori turned around, walking towards her room. "...He's not one of us anymore..." she mumbled in response, her voice devoid of any betraying emotions.

Eyes watched her walk out of the room in silence. The moment after she left, from his place on the floor, Hachigen commented, "She's worried."

Sitting upright, the left side of his face still a bright red, Shinji sighed in agreement. "...Yeah. I am, too. I think this reiatsu has something to do with what Kisuke said about his soul being damaged. He also said it has nothing to do with the fight with Suì-Fēng."

"...Guess we'll just hope for the best and wait for him to awaken," Love said with his head in his manga, but summing up what everyone was thinking.

They all suddenly flinched, heads snapping into the direction of the room Ichigo slept in, as a darkly familiar reiatsu permeated the air from its direction.

"...What the..."

Shinji, being the closest to the door, was the first to move, using shunpō to approach the door and opening it with all intentions to blast the Hollow he surely sensed inside to kingdom come.

Until he realized the reiatsu was coming from the stirring teen upon the bed.

-:Edth:C:-

The moment Ichigo came to consciousness, even with his eyes closed, he felt a dreaded feeling reminiscent of déjà vu. Only this time, there were no soft sounds of voices in the background or whispers within his soul. There was no feeling of reiatsu swirling about him and the world, no comforting presence of Zangetsu within his soul, nor the distinct, distant feeling of some other existence in the depths of his being. Instead, it was quiet.

The world seemed overwhelmingly quiet.

...Though there was something unsettling about...something...off the edges of what he perceived to be his natural senses.

Slowly, ocher eyes fluttered open—

"GAH!"

—wide into eight faces staring at him from above.

"There is a thing called personal space, you bastards!" he exclaimed, well aware he had grasped onto his bed at the rude awakening.

The Vizard's reactions weren't what he had expected, or what was to be expected. They glanced at one another instead of performing some bizarre antic, and then looked back at him. Shinji was the first to break the awkward silence, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, ah...Ichigo. How ya feeling?" he asked with predictable nonchalance.

Brows furrowing, Ichigo blinked at the question. Slowly, his sleepy mind brought him back to his present situation, why he was in the presence of the Vizard to begin with. His expression only slightly dropped when it all fell into place. "Startled, but fine, no thanks to you guys," he lightly retorted.

That response didn't rouse a typical response, either. "No, really," Love urged, "how do you feel?"

His expression deepening, this time Ichigo took a moment before responding. In the same moment, that unsettling feeling of some force or dense, undetectable object above him came to his attention, causing him to wince away. "...It feels like there's something heavy between us, something invisible," he said cautiously, "but everything else feels...normal..."

His gaze momentarily hazed over at his word choice. Normal. That word now carried more weight than what he once thought possible. Normal. How long had it been since he last felt...normal?

Blinking out of his contemplation, he noticed the faces of distrust at his words. "Yeah. Right. Normal," Kensei scoffed, moving back and crossing his arms while giving the teen a wary glare.

All at once, they began conversation, completely ignoring the disconcerted teen:

"Think it's his Hollow?" Hiyori asked, glancing over at Shinji.

He glanced back. "Eh, I don't think so."

"I agree," said Hachi, nodding wisely. "I think we would know if it was."

"His reiatsu isn't dark enough, anyhow," Lisa added tersely.

"Oi..."

Rose cracked a small smile. "I think we should have anticipated this."

"Why do I get the feeling you're right?" Love sighed.

"Oi...!"

Mashirō poked Kensei's side. "I think Berry-tan is—"

He swatted her hand away. "Don't poke me!"

"OI!"

The ex-Shinigami moved back, giving the teen his space and looking at him just when he abruptly sat upright, glaring darkly at them.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" he exclaimed, momentarily ignoring the strange dense sensation distancing itself from him when they moved away. "And someone tell me what the hell is going o—?"

"You don't feel normal, Ichigo," Lisa interjected, getting straight to the point. She then adjusted her glasses, hiding her eyes, causing the dim light in the room to reflect off them. "In fact, you shouldn't have any reiatsu for us to sense at all..."

Eyes slightly widening, he quickly glanced to each of them, seeing they were serious about the matter. He took a moment, and then looked down at his hands, sighing and frowning in slight disappointment. It was just one strange thing after another with him, wasn't it? "...What do you sense from me, then?" he asked, his voice soft, almost resigned. "You said something about my Hollow, but I don't sense anything."

Briefly glancing away, Shinji raised a brow in thought, mentally searching for the right words. He finally settled on, "Something dark. You feel like something...dark. Similar to a Hollow, I guess." He shrugged. "Can't really think of any other way to explain it."

"I was thinking maybe your Hollow was doing some weird shit," Hiyori bluntly explained to the teen's latter statement. She then crossed her arms, scoffing in what appeared to be disappointment. "But that's obviously not it, so what's the deal, baldy?"

Glaring at her, Ichigo growled, "How the hell am I supposed to know?! You're the ones giving off some weird aura!"

She scoffed. "So are you!"

"About that," said Rose, focusing back to the main subject, "can you elaborate on it?"

Sighing, Ichigo shook his head, looking back to and flexing his fingers. Before verbally answering, he tried to reach out and detect the sensation, but it was difficult without some sort of "marker", or what would have otherwise been reiatsu. Though unable to sense anything else, the distinct awareness of some presence to his side, where the Vizard stood, still lingered. It was quite different from reiatsu, however; hollow.

"It's hard," he murmured, brows furrowed in concentration. "The best way I can describe it is that it's kind of disturbing."

Humming in thought, Hachi took a step forward, causing the teen to visibly twitch and slant his eyes. "Interesting reaction," he observed. "It worsens as we approach."

Eyes still slanted, Ichigo nodded. "Yeah."

"No wonder you jumped like a sissy when you woke up," Hiyori jeered.

Another glare. "Shut up."

"But is it just us," Rose pondered aloud, "or normal humans as well?"

Tilting his head towards the door, Shinji turned halfway to it. "Guess we'll find out. C'mon, Ichigo," he beckoned, grinning widely. "Come see your new home."

* * *

The data —his data— could not lie.

Ichimaru was telling the truth.

Kisuke sighed in resignation, turning his gaze from his labwork. Spread before him upon a table were samples and statistics taken from Ichimaru over the course of the past month, from simple bits of hair to the more intricate layout of his spiritual structure. And each and every sample was abnormal. There was nothing slightly "normal" about Ichimaru, even down to his vision, no matter how it usually seemed otherwise on the outside. The crux was, according to the data, the abnormalities had existed long before his current condition.

Taking his "extended probation", as he mockingly called it, all too easily, Ichimaru had cooperated to the tests without the slightest suggestions of resistance. If Kisuke didn't know better, he would swear the uncanny smile only seemed to grow impossibly wider each and every time...

On second thought, he did know better. Now, that is.

Furthermore, as he had assured, Ichimaru was able to physically prove what he spoke of during his first coherent awakening.

...The portal didn't help.

...And those snakes _really_ didn't help...

Standing up from his chair with a sigh, Kisuke moved from his computer monitor to a table with Ichimaru's neckband atop it along with something long covered with a cloth. As he slept, Kisuke took the time to modify his tracking device and spiritual monitor, simultaneously collecting the newest data it had obtained. Though Ichimaru seemed more coherent and less likely to fall asleep out of fatigue since his breakdown in Karakura Town, the data collected told the evident truth that he was still gravely ill. Unfortunately, nothing would ever change that.

Kisuke took the neckband and exited his lab, which immediately darkened behind him after he left. He traveled leisurely through his home, catching glimpse of Ururu gently scolding Jinta for something or other, and smiled to himself.

Ururu had never quite seemed herself since Ichimaru arrived that day in the Shōten. Kisuke recalled her staring persistently at him, an expression in her eyes similar to when she went Genocide, but more coherent, perhaps; attentive. Now, since after Ichimaru had threatened her she oddly seemed even more focused on him, and he on her, though not in the same way; wary, almost. Knowing what he knew now, Kisuke had a feeling it was related to...well...

Sighing softly, he walked down the hall adjacent to the infirmary, shortly finding himself standing in the doorway of the room itself. Its sole occupant appeared asleep in his bed, lying peacefully and breathing steadily through his mask, but mere appearance wasn't enough for reassurance with Ichimaru Gin. With his eyes tightly slanted on a daily basis, it was difficult to tell when his eyes were truly closed. Regardless, Kisuke continued in, making not a sound with casual, light footsteps, and approached Ichimaru's side.

The younger man didn't even twitch as Kisuke lifted his head to put the neckband in place, his head even lolled limply from the movement. Perhaps he was asleep after all. A few taps to the band's sides, and Kisuke retracted his hands to slip into his sleeves, observing his patient.

The upgraded device made a soft chirp, just when Ichimaru grimaced, his body tensing for a sliver of a moment before going lax. His spectator raised a brow at this; Kisuke hoped to eventually see a demonstration of just how well the neckband would work, but that was...sooner than expected. Instantaneous, almost.

...Fortunately for Ichimaru, the device had adapted to his unusual reiatsu...

Behind him, Tessai appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Urahara, you've a phone call from the Vizard," he announced softly. "Mr. Kurosaki has awakened."

Kisuke turned to face his companion, expression a mix of confusion and concern. If they were contacting him about Ichigo...something must be wrong.

...The damned snake was, unfortunately, undoubtedly telling the truth.

* * *

The young hybrid stood before the edge of one of the complex's broken floors, staring out at the scene of rubble, land and distant ocean illuminated by the orange sunset. Some distance behind and slightly to his side stood Shinji, passively watching both the teen and the setting sun. So far, Ichigo hadn't displayed any unusual reaction to his surroundings despite his strange reiatsu and response to the Vizards' presence he exhibited beforehand.

Before reaching the higher levels of the ruins, Ichigo and Shinji had traveled to the town's streets and neighborhood, familiarizing the teen with the location that would be his new hometown. As Ichigo had traveled, he noticed Akazuki-chō was a quiet town, almost languid and morose in both appearance and atmosphere. But the people they met were kind and surprisingly friendly, if not just slightly ignorant to the outside world...and a bit off-kilter more than half of the time...

The nearby city, easily accessible via bridge over a large river, had a livelier atmosphere, bustling with vehicles, shouts, smells, and...strange doings thanks to Akazuki's inhabitants. Both had watched in amusement from the bridge when an argument broke out between two drivers and their passengers, threats and antics abound. It ended with the drivers vehemently wrestling; neither onlooker decided the details were worth remembering...They stayed to watch for some time before returning into the town, to the ruins.

Presently, Ichigo stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression resigned. Traveling through Akazuki and observing its neighboring city forced him to realize the bitter reality of his situation. He was now a criminal in the eyes of the Soul Society, despite all he had done with them, for them. He couldn't return to his hometown, was distanced from and a safety risk to his own family and friends...

How did it come to this?

"So, Ichigo," Shinji began, breaking the silence, "what'd ya think of the town?"

Glancing back, the teen made a slight smile that didn't seem entirely sincere. "It's okay. Seems peaceful enough..." He looked forward again, shoulders heaving in a sigh. "It's a sort of sleepy town. Doesn't seem as if anything interesting happens here," he murmured, brows furrowing. He would have to get used to the quiet...and wasn't looking forward to it.

Shinji cracked a smile, revealing his brick-toothed grin, and turned to leave, snickering, "Yeah, you're right. The silence is kinda deafening in comparison to Karakura..." At the sound of his movement, Ichigo again glanced back at him, and he beckoned him to follow with a nudge of his head before turning and walking away. "But that's the price to pay with finding a place that's pretty much off the reiatsu radar."

The teen followed behind him, a contemplative expression on his face. That would explain it well enough. He then focused ahead to the storage closet they were approaching, where a staircase to the basement was located. "So, this part of Japan doesn't have a high concentration of reiatsu?" he asked rhetorically.

"Yep. One of the rare places in Japan like this," Shinji responded, opening the seemingly decrepit closet where the dark staircase was visible further in. It went alight as unseen sensors detected his presence, the yellow light clashing horribly with the natural sunlight behind them. "Urahara and the others found a place like this, too, but it's all the way in England."

Ichigo followed behind him as he ventured further in, and then turned to close the door behind him. His expression slightly turned somber at yet another reminder of the situation at hand. When he turned around, he caught Shinji glancing back at him, and in that moment, he knew the man had read him entirely. In the next moment, they broke eye contact, beginning their steady descent down the stairs.

The staircase was long, leading from the damaged sixth floor to the sturdier seventh, then giving away to a hall behind one of the walls that took them to the next staircase in a closet. As they traveled, Ichigo took his time to yet again admire the evident work that was done to the building's concealed interior, specifically these halls throughout it. The walls were a grey-white color, with what appeared to be windows looking out into the building beyond. However, these "windows" only allowed one-way exhibiting, which Ichigo only knew by Shinji's spontaneous explanation when they first went through the halls. When he had the mind to bring it up, Ichigo would have to ask the Vizard how they had accomplished such extensive construction and carpentry.

When they arrived at the closet of the seventh floor, Shinji abruptly broke the somewhat dismal silence as he gave the teen a backwards glance. "Don't worry."

Ichigo looked up from the ground, blinking out of his thoughts.

At the confused expression on the teen's face, Shinji continued, "Your dad knows where you are, but not your sisters."

Slowly, Ichigo nodded, glancing away as the news sunk in, and then sighed, his gaze returning to the ground, eyes going half-lidded. He seemed tired, likely from his own thoughts...maybe not.

With a sigh of his own, Shinji continued to look forward, and only then did his face betray his own feelings on the current state of wretched affairs. This had to be the last straw with the Central 46's nonsense...

When they eventually returned to the basement, the main living room area was empty, the sound of activity instead coming from the kitchen. Shinji began to walk in that direction as he exited the last staircase, Ichigo in tow, whereas the teen only gave the kitchen's direction a passing glance before turning his attention to his room.

A familiar "Ara?" of surprise, however, brought the teen's focus on the kitchen's doorway, where no one but Urahara Kisuke bounded over.

"Kurosaki-san~!" he cried, waving his fan in the air and his other arm out in the position of a waiting embrace, a merry smile adorning his face.

Ichigo blinked in surprise, lips slightly curling in a smile of his own upon seeing his former mentor. "Urahara-san..."

"I came just the moment I heard you were awake!" Kisuke cheerily explained, floating into the room towards Ichigo and Shinji. His smile suddenly grew larger. "And that was...quite literally about around the time you and Hirako-san left to explore the town!"

Slightly tilting his head to the side, an eye squinting, Ichigo thought back to just how fast that would be. He was awake for about...well, just a few minutes, by that point. And then he and Shinji did take some time to leave the building, be it that he couldn't use shunpō...but..."HOW did you get here so quickly?" he asked incredulously. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as his question only caused a sly smile to appear on Kisuke's face. "...You couldn't have gotten here that fast..."

Standing beside Ichigo, Shinji was grinning, watching as the teen became a little livelier at Kisuke's presence.

The scientist only forced a frown, lowering his fan to flip it over and conceal his expression. "You don't sound very happy to see me, Kurosaki-san," he said, no longer as joyous as before. "And it's been a while since we last spoke. Almost two months, you know."`

The statement cut abruptly into the casual momentum of the moment, causing the teen's expression to freeze in realization before steadily dropping...

The moment lasted just a few seconds as Kisuke quickly saved face, waving his fan to catch the teen's attention and answer, "There are ways of coming and going, from my end. I could get some ways set up here, in the future..."

Not any comforted or assured by the typically enigmatic response, Ichigo only nodded, glancing away in the beginnings of rumination.

"But I'm not here for a friendly visit..." Kisuke flipped his fan over his mouth upon catching the lingering frown upon the teen's face, "...not any more than usual." He straightened his posture and slightly narrowed his eyes, focusing on the matter at hand, the reason why he was there to begin with. "The others were telling me about your reiatsu..." he gestured, appraising the teen's form with his eyes.

"Yeah," Ichigo sighed, briefly closing his eyes. "...What's the consensus?"

Kisuke's smile, though hidden, was reflected in his eyes. He had already given the teen a brief spiritual checkup the moment he sensed him enter the living room. "It...is indeed strange," he replied, concentrating on the feel of the undeniably dark reiatsu before him. It wasn't as suffocating as a real Hollow's, but the similarity was...unsurprising. "Very similar to a Hollow's, but that isn't too unusual."

Ichigo glanced at Shinji. "I didn't think so," he informed them, the way in which he spoke giving the suggestion he didn't want to say so before.

The smile upon the storeowner's face became sly, understanding exactly what he meant. "Of course not...~"

Shinji didn't miss the inflection in his voice, giving him a slant-eyed glance the second after he spoke. His response was a close-eyed smile, causing him to narrow both eyes in suspicion. Fortunately, Ichigo was too caught up in his own thoughts to have notice this exchange.

Clearing his throat, Kisuke lowered and closed his fan, slipping it into one of his sleeves. "...Regardless, Kurosaki-san, I would like to make something to aid you with restraining your reiatsu," he offered, expression sincere. "You are still otherwise human, it appears..."

His words alluded to something more, thus both Shinji and Ichigo remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

Giving a half-apologetic, half-carefree smile, Kisuke raised a finger. "...for now."

Rolling his eyes, a small smile on his lips, Ichigo sighed, "I had a feeling you'd say that, but I guess it's to be expected..."

"When will you have this device complete?" Shinji inquired. He was on the same mental wavelength as Kisuke, that Ichigo's reiatsu would undeniably attract unwanted attention.

"Hm, I've worked with this before, so I should have one done within the next day or so."

Slightly suspicious, suddenly reminded of something that may or may not have been related to Kisuke's words, Shinji directed a questioning gaze at the scientist. Catching it, Kisuke only smiled.

"ICHIGO!"

Said teen had only a split second to flinch at his shouted name before a familiar plush lion attached itself to his face from out of the blue. "GAH! Kon?!" he exclaimed, grabbing the plushie and detached him from his face with all intention to throw him to the ground— the tears on his face be damned.

"Ah, yes." Kisuke's smile widened, his expression genuinely pleased, maybe even a bit fond. "Kon-san will be staying with you all to keep you company, Kurosaki-san. He misses you."

The beginning expression of irritation forming on the teen's face instantly faded upon hearing this. He froze in his motion to throw Kon to the ground, instead bringing him closer to look at him. The Mod Soul, through his tears, was relieved. "...You...Do you?" he asked him.

"Yes!" Rubbing at his eyes, Kon scowled fiercely. "You don't know how I've taken the betrayal of the Soul Society to you, Ichigo!" All went silent after his outburst, but not for long. Kon composed himself, taking a deep inhale, and then looked the teen in the eye. He made sure Ichigo was looking at him before speaking again. "I never would have thought they'd do something like that. Not ever. Not after all you've done for them, you've fought with them, bled with them...!" he emphasized, his voice raising as he listed the deeds. His brows then furrowed into a furious frown. "...Fought Aizen for them! How could they do that to anyone..."

His sentence wasn't a question, more of an indicative statement as he glanced to both Kisuke and Shinji, also victims of the wrongdoings of the Soul Society, and then he sighed, lowering his head.

Having not considered Kon very much lately, to his internal guilt, Ichigo had almost completely forgotten how Kon came into his life. He made a small smile, loosening his grasp around the plush body and taking him into both hands, listening.

"We're all outcasts, now," the Mod Soul sighed bitterly, shaking his head, and then shrugged. "...And besides," he said, voice lowering to a near whisper, "I've gotten pretty close to your family over the year, so if it's too risky to be in Karakura Town, I'd like to be with you..."

Kon's words stirred something within Ichigo, and he smiled warmly, moving his hands so the stuffed lion could stand on his palms. "...Thanks, Kon," he said softly. "I wondered what had happened to you."

This resulted in the plushie instantly attaching himself to Ichigo's chest, crying once more. "Aw, Ichigooooo! You do care...!" he cried. He felt the gentle pats to his back and relaxed his tense grip. The teen seemed unbothered by what was usually an annoying reaction to him.

Though Shinji didn't know Kon personally, he was thankful Ichigo would at least have someone he considered a closer friend he could talk to. From behind Shinji and Kisuke, Lisa, Hiyori and Rose also witnessed the scene, and Hiyori decided the sappy moment was over.

"Oi! Ichigo! Shinji!" she shouted at them, getting all four's attention. "It's time for dinner. Get yer asses in the kitchen, or you get nothing!" She jabbed her thumb back in the kitchen for emphasis.

Sighing, placing Kon on his shoulder, Ichigo addressed his former teacher. "Are you staying for dinner?" he asked, voice still low and unusually softer.

Waving his hand, palm up, Kisuke politely declined. "Oh, no, I've already eaten."

"Okay. Good to see you again, Urahara-san," Ichigo said, moving towards the kitchen door. "Tell Tessai-san, Yoruichi-san and the kids I said hi."

"Absolutely, Kurosaki-san," said the scientist, moving aside for the teen to walk by, absently noting Shinji coming up by his side. "Take care."

A small smile spread on the teen's lips before he turned forward, slipping a hand into his pocket. Hiyori gave him a look before retreating into the kitchen, followed shortly by her companions.

Shinji waited until Ichigo had disappeared into the kitchen before turning to Kisuke. Naturally, the smile that had adorned the storeowner's face had disappeared; he knew what was on the blond's mind.

"You're keepin' something important from us, Kisuke," Shinji suspected, eyes hard. "In fact, I think you've been keeping something from us for a while, now...but, that's nothing new," he sighed, relaxing and giving a small, sly smile, "so remember to tell us when the time's right, eh?"

With a small, apologetic smile, Kisuke acknowledged, "I wouldn't imagine anything else."

* * *

Kisuke returned home afterwards, with only Shinji present to witness the unusual garganta-esque method he used to open a pathway to Lancashire. To the Vizard's credit, he simply watched with inevitable curiosity, saying not a word about how the transparent, seemingly malleable portal came to be. Fortunately for Kisuke, the de facto leader of the Vizard legitimately trusted him.

He exited the translucent, rippling portal to arrive in his laboratory, where he was immediately alerted to the tense atmosphere. There was only one possible explanation: something had happened to or with Ichimaru. Slipping his hands into his sleeves, Kisuke calmly left the room into the short, conjoined hallway that led to the infirmary. The apprehensive voices of Tessai and Yoruichi could be heard as he approached, causing him to move just a bit faster.

The sight of bloodstained sheets and his companion's exhausted expressions greeted him when he entered the room. Upon the bloodied bed lay Ichimaru, familiar trembles wracking through his unconscious body, blood trickling down both his chin and his eyes closed.

Another episode, unsurprisingly.

After helping to clean the mess and assuring Ichimaru was momentarily stabilized, Kisuke returned to his lab to begin working on a suppressant for Ichigo. For the device to be effective, he would need all what Ichimaru had said about the teen as his arsenal...

-:Edth:C:-

_"Lose his powers, Urahara?" the pallid man chuckled, head slowly shaking in disbelief. "There ain't no such thing for that kid. Gotta remember, he ain't quite human, and was born that way. You could say his powers are...sleepin'. They're there, and the only way he's gonna get 'em back is if he uses the ones he can still utilize...but never used before."_

_Kisuke slightly leaned forward in his chair, curious. "Never used...? He has other powers other than...?"_

_"Urahara~" Ichimaru sang, his smile widening, "I know ya know what Ichigo really is. Now think about it, if he's unable ta use his Shinigami powers...it makes sense that the other two powers will surface. Everything's intertwined inside o' 'im." Leaning back against the pillows, he chuckled, "And I'd put a leash on what'll be his second most powerful...eh...birthright. Ya never know what trouble it could attract 'r cause~"_

-:Edth:C:-

Shaking his head, Kisuke had to give it to the former traitor once more.

The truth he told made the obvious lies more difficult to swallow.


	7. Interlude II – The Theatre of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichimaru is given some freedom, at last.

_And lying eyes  
_ —Saybia, "Snake Tongued Beast"

* * *

Weeks turned into a month, and a month turned into a year since the two events in the lives of those whose fates were unknowingly intertwined. Nearly two years to the day since Ichimaru was found and exactly twelve months since Ichigo's attempted assassination, both survivors had recovered rather well with the merciful passage of otherwise halcyon days.

In Lancashire, the Back-Alley household had become accustomed to the unnerving enigma that was Gin Ichimaru. Fortunately, he had recovered from his bedridden state, now able to move freely without the possibility of overexertion from the simplest of things, and able to stay conscious for a normal fifteen to seventeen hours a day, if just a little less. His episodes, however, were still frequent, showing zero signs of improvement despite the passage of time. They normally occurred earlier in the day, the evening and the middle of the night, thus his daily activity worked around their expected times.

During his attacks, he was a completely different person, sickly and helpless, and with his normal day-to-day behavior, it was easy to forget he was dying. Sometimes this was to such a point that the attacks often took most of the household by surprise. Afterwards, he would shrug or smile it off, continuing to go on his way as if nothing ever happened. Thankfully, with Kisuke's persistent check-ups, the worst of his attacks were kept under control...

As for his general personality, though Ichimaru was, more often than not, polite in his speech, it was quickly learned Ichimaru had a penchant for being mocking and sarcastic, adding to his already dubious demeanor. Regardless of this, he had become familiar to everyone, almost to the point that it was easy to forget just who he was.

Kisuke trekked to the infirmary, the bright light of the midmorning streaming through the windows as he passed down the hall. In his arms, he carried a tray with a long item from his lab covered with a cloth. His patient finally seemed well enough to try his latest experiment. Also, much as he didn't want to admit it, Ichimaru had cooperated well for someone mostly confined in a house for twelve months, and when he was allowed on his "town arrest" probation, he followed suit without complaint or any other surprises he could have easily pulled despite his condition. Even after a year, he still seemed strangely...complacent.

Which meant it was time to test the former traitor.

Ichimaru was sitting up on his bed, a notebook in one hand and a pencil in the other, tapping it against his chin in thought, when Kisuke entered the room.

A bright smile appeared on the younger man's face. "G'mornin', Urahara," he greeted, a bit too cheerfully. Upon seeing the tray in the storeowner's arms, he lowered his pencil and perked up. "Oh~? What do ya got, there?"

Placing the tray upon a tall cart, Kisuke responded, "A...present, if you will, for being so cooperative during this past year." He moved the cart to the side of a counter beside the infirmary's sink and opened a drawer, placing some instruments from inside upon the cart.

Eyeing them, Ichimaru tilted his head to the side. More experiments, then. Watching the scientist push the cart over, he caught a glimpse of what looked like...skin...underneath the cloth upon the tray. His smile steadily grew in well-hidden surprise. Or maybe...not experiments...?

The one-eyed gaze remained fixated on the tray, and so Kisuke decided not to hide his creation any longer. Letting the cart rest beside the bed, he pulled the cloth away to reveal what appeared to be a severed arm identical to the one Ichimaru had lost.

Ichimaru slightly opened his eye, his smile slightly faltering in what was not well-hidden surprise.

Kisuke made him a prosthetic arm.

Of all things, this was not something he had ever considered the scientist would do. For him.

Taking advantage of the rare display of shock, Kisuke gently rolled up the limp sleeve until the smooth stump was visible. Only then did Ichimaru snap out of it, but he remained silent and his eyes remained slightly open. He watched with bated curiosity as the scientist took up a long, thin metal rod, or so it appeared, from the cart and lifted the prosthetic with its severed side facing him. Slender, wiry strands that appeared translucent and hollow draped from that side, causing Ichimaru to wonder how those things were going to aid in attaching to him...though he had an idea.

The rod-like item poked and prodded at the severed fleshy material, and then Kisuke pressed it inside the very middle of it. It went in a good three inches or so before it was pulled out, but only the metal "casting" was taken away, be it an identical thin rod with the same appearance as the strands now remained sticking out of the arm. Unlike the strands, however, the rod seemed solid. Kisuke then turned the arm towards Ichimaru, his brows furrowed in what appeared to be deep thought and focused on what he was doing.

He wasn't going to say it aloud, but Kisuke could only hope this worked. He had nothing to test it on, and the worst that could happen was that it...well...drained Ichimaru even more.

No, he wasn't going to say that aloud.

Sitting patiently upon his bed, Ichimaru found the scientist's concentration interesting, watching as the prosthetic was lined up with his stump before the rod met his skin.

"This will hurt," Kisuke warned, but Ichimaru only waved his hand to continue. He was quite used to pain.

Indeed, in comparison to even his weakest attacks, the transparent rod boring into his arm was like a pinch to someone else. He only watched with morbid fascination as blood began to run inside of the rod until it reached the rest of the hand, and then everything changed.

The wiry strands came to life, raising from their limp positions to also press against his skin. However, they, to his great interest, slipped easily into him, no pain or indication of how they breached his skin. The rest of the arm slowly slid up until the strands and the rod were completely inside of him, the arm fully attached.

He suddenly startled upon feeling —truly feeling— something through the prosthetic limb that registered in his brain, as if the arm was a natural part of his body. If he pinpointed the feeling, it felt as if his reiryoku, what little he had left, was flowing through it just as it would for a real arm. He tried to move the hand's fingers upon Kisuke's nod, and his smile widened when he did just that; one finger, then two, and then all five.

Chuckling softly, he lifted the arm to examine it, now watched closely by Kisuke's gaze. "A genuine miracle worker, Urahara," he praised, truly impressed with the invention. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, and that was truly significant.

"It should adapt to your body after a few hours," the scientist explained, mentally rejoicing at his success. "After that, you should be able to remove it and replace it easily."

Humming, Ichimaru ran his fingers down his new arm's side, silently marveling at how it even felt like a real arm, and somehow it also had slender silver hairs upon it, like his left. Plastering a "tentative" expression, he appropriately froze in place. "...Is it mine 'r are ya just usin' me as a guinea pig?" he asked with a playfully cautious tone.

A small smile had begun to form on Kisuke's lips in spite of himself. It didn't last. "Well, if I had put any nasty surprises in its make, you would have known, Mr. Ichimaru," he pointed matter-of-factly, "but it is yours."

"Ho~?" Giving his new arm a warm-up, forming fists and entwining fingers from both hands, Ichimaru tilted his head to the side, eye slightly opening. "Sounds like all yer tests these past months were successful."

Kisuke slightly frowned, remaining quiet for a moment as he examined the younger man before him. The tests. If there was one thing he disliked admitting about this Ichimaru from the one during Aizen's lifetime, it was his, thus far, brutal and willing honesty. In fact, it was only because of the tests performed on the former traitor that Kisuke could gather the aptitude needed to create this special prosthetic...

After a moment of consideration, he reached to Ichimaru's neck and gave the collar two light taps against its side. He blinked into a crystalline orb as the collar's heavy weight suddenly fell into his open palm. Though slight, he detected some surprise in that uncanny eye at the unexpected action. "It's been decided to let you have a day off from your probation," he simply explained, breaking eye contact and moving aside with the detached collar in hand.

Despite his awareness of being complacent and agreeable, this surprised Ichimaru yet again. He had even reasonably considered his personality only spurred on more distrust from the former captain. Simultaneously, he was aware Kisuke wasn't literally letting him off the hook, oh, not in at least a few more years. Or maybe never at all. Regardless, he was thankful for the well-earned freedom; he wasn't fond of remaining stagnant.

"You may go anywhere you like, within reason," Kisuke continued explaining, tinkering with invisible nodes on the collar. To the inexperienced eye, it appeared as if the ex-captain was simply thumbing the collar's sides, but Ichimaru was no such person. He watched curiously, and after a few seconds, Kisuke held the collar with both hands, its open back facing him. "...So long as you are back for dinner."

A more familiar smile spread on Ichimaru's face and his eye closed, completely masking his emotions. He was used to this strange treatment Kisuke gave him, as it was familiar; sometimes it reminded him of himself, sometimes it reminded him of Aizen. The subtle but certain tension between them mirrored the latter more often than not, with leeway for a few personality quirks...

He accepted the collar without a prompt, slightly lifting his head up, and shortly felt the lukewarm alloy against his skin. It connected at the back of his neck with a soft sound akin to a click a second later, but Kisuke didn't remove his hands.

"If it beeps," the storeowner instructed, "you need to excuse yourself from whatever you're doing and return here. You might have at least four minutes before an attack, so move swiftly, even if it hurts." After assuring the device was secure around the pale neck, he tapped its sides a few times, brows slightly furrowed, before stepping back. "It's the least I can do."

The hue of color began to glow between the slant of Ichimaru's eye as he slightly opened it again. He stared at the man before him in contemplation, debating to let his façade drop for this moment, deeply curious in spite of himself. If Kisuke truly did believe him more than the year before, he had to wonder. "...What are ya gonna do, now, Urahara?" he asked, his voice almost a murmur and saturated with more emotion than what he intended to let out.

The storeowner met his gaze, locking grey orbs with a partially slanted mix. Neither held a shred of betraying emotion in their depths, instead both watched the other to see who would crack first. When nothing happened, after a moment of silence, Kisuke turned away with the cart and walked towards the door.

"...Ten hours, Ichimaru. You should get going," he coolly reminded, leaving the room.

Allowing his eye to completely open, a small smile broke on Ichimaru's face as he watched the older man leave. Of course, it was too soon to ask such a question, but he was curious. There wasn't much that could be done...from Kisuke's end. He then glanced to the ceiling, an exhausted sigh escaping him. That left him yet again wondering down those melancholic thoughts...

Three down...millions to go.

After a moment of pondering that overwhelming truth, he hummed and moved from the bed. He took a long stare at his new arm, recalling how he lost the other one, and continued to do for a few idler minutes while his free hand gathered his notepad and pencil.

He only spent a few more minutes in the infirmary, which was somewhat "his room" since his condition made it so, to change his clothes before leaving the house. His notepad and pencil remained behind, placed neatly upon his tidy bed sheets.

-:Edth:C:-

Once again Ichimaru sat at the bottom of and against embankment at the ocean's edge of Fleetwood. Though he liked Lancashire, he really did, he was unused to being under such restrictions; even Aizen had been aware of how difficult it was to keep him still. There was nothing to do in the town. Hollows, in comparison to what he was used to, came so rarely, it wasn't even worth having a Shinigami to protect the town; they came on random occasions, purifying a few Hollows here and there, before disappearing once again. He knew that was the exact reason why Urahara and his companions chose the district to live in, but...oh, it was just so boring.

Tessai, Kisuke and Yoruichi were too wary of him, no matter how well they hid it; the children were afraid and too perceptive of him...

...No one to play with...

With a shrug, he lifted a bony finger and tapped the air before him, opening a garganta. A shudder rippled through his body, and he shook his head with a frown. So even using kidō or other non-physical abilities caused him discomfort...Grunting softly, he stood and jumped inside, using light shunpō to lessen the duration of his little trip.

A few minutes later, a garganta opened in the sky of a city. From out of it, Ichimaru stayed hovering in the air for a second or two, wrapping a mint-colored scarf around his neck, before allowing himself to fall to the rooftop of a building. Landing gently, he looked around, slipping his hands into his sleeves.

_Naruki-shi_ , he thought idly to himself in immediate recognition of the location, walking to the roof's edge and watching the city below. After a moment, he shook his head, his signature smile widening.  _...Ain't surprisin' I'm in Japan. Again._

He hadn't consciously intended to arrive in Naruki City, but it really wasn't a surprise he returned to the country he nearly died in. It had been a year, after all...Humming in thought, considering the direction of a certain town, he tilted his head. Why not visit that place? It would be some walk, but what better way to stretch his legs?

An hour and thirty minutes later, he walked leisurely towards the middle of Karakura Town. He had raised his hood, covering his unnatural hair and slightly obscuring his face, the moment he entered the town. Though he doubted there were many Shinigami, if any, posted in Karakura, he preferred to be safer than sorry. As he walked, he kept to himself, walking through the back-alleys and taking shortcuts to his destination. He didn't have to fear being spotted by many, as he wasn't in a gigai. One wasn't provided for him, and so he hadn't asked while in the Back-Alley Shoppe...

A sudden feeling reached his senses, immediately diverting his attention from his search for a certain alley. Within the very air itself, something was amiss. Unusual. Lingering reiatsu, powerful and uncanny, hovered within the air of the location he was nearing. He had arrived.

Disappearing in a burst of shunpō, he landed atop a building, directly in the center of the lingering spirit energy. He took a deep inhale, feeling a stirring within as the entity inside him seemed to respond to the atmosphere. For a moment, he frowned, placing a hand over his chest, and then lowered his hand to his side while looking around.

Even after a year, the location in the world of the living where the last battle occurred during the Winter War had not changed. Every fallen building, every trace and footprint of those who were the last to walk the ground, invisible as they were to normal eyes, had remained. He could see it all as if it were just yesterday in his mind's eye. Briefly, he closed his eye, remembering the last normal conversation he had with his zanpakutō that day...

_"This is it, partner. If this is our last stand, I'm glad I was able ta keep my promise..."_

Shaking his head, he smiled sadly to himself. If only they had known it would end up like this...

His smile suddenly turned mischievous, widening, and he asked aloud, "So how long are ya plannin' ta just point that thing at me, Ishida-kun?"

Behind him, also standing on the rooftop, was Ishida Uryū, his large spider web-like Quincy bow, Ginrei Kojaku, aimed directly at the reputed traitor. "How long were you planning on acting as if I wasn't here?" he countered rhetorically, the scowl on his face deepening.

Uryū had to look twice when he saw an, at first, unfamiliar figure jumping the rooftops of the town. They weren't dressed in a shihakushō, and their reiatsu was unreadable. He had decided to follow and watch at a distance for caution's sake, and for good reason. He continued his attempt to get a reading of the figure's reiatsu for as long as he watched them, though he had a feeling they knew what he was doing. A sudden sharp and brief spike in reiatsu had nearly caused him to stumble over his own feet in shock, the reiatsu unforgettably familiar and powerful. Impossible as it seemed, the figure was one of the three traitors of the Soul Society.

He had only seen them at a distance and in pictures, but he knew the one he was following was Ichimaru Gin, the most enigmatic of the three. But the report after the war was that he had fallen, even Ichigo said such. Uryū had all reason to believe something was off.

"You are going to answer my questions, Ichimaru. I won't take no for an answer," he ordered, pulling back the spirit arrow within the bow for emphasis. "What are you doing in Karakura Town?"

Continuing to scan the battleground, Ichimaru lightly shrugged. "Mm. Lookin' around. Checkin' out where the last battle in the War took place here," he answered casually.

"Why?"

"I nearly died down there," he said, nudging forward with his head to the ground below him. He kept his back to the young Quincy, uninterested in facing him, and well aware the non-hostile approach might delay if not completely prevent Uryū from attacking.

Frowning, Uryū recalled what he had been told after the war. Aizen and Ichimaru had infiltrated the real Karakura-chō in the Soul Society, appearing in and going no further than the middle of the town. Though the battle took place nearly two years ago now, the air around them, this location, held signs of the unusual entities that had confronted therein. The townspeople even avoided this area, their inner sixth senses preventing them from gathering at a location where such frightening spiritual beings had appeared, similar to the location in the park where Yammy and Ulquiorra first arrived.

Ichimaru seemed to be telling the truth.

But Uryū continued with his interrogation, his guard only increasing. "And what are your intentions, now?" he asked, readying his fingers to fire.

To the teen's surprise, Ichimaru made a sound akin to a huff of annoyance. "I wanna continue stretchin' out my legs fer the first time in a year before Urahara calls me back ta his place," he answered, just the slightest indication of irritation in his tone.

The young Quincy blinked at this response, wisely keeping his surprise to himself as he said nothing to disclose it.

...Urahara-san?

-:Edth:C:-

Ichimaru spent the next several minutes explaining his situation, that he was living with Kisuke and the others in another town. Now facing the teen, he found himself explaining a little more than he needed, such as how he was in no condition to be fighting.

"...I...believe you," Uryū admitted, lowering his bow and allowing it to disappear. He shook his head, wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "Daunting as it is to believe, it isn't impossible. Very well. I won't bother you, but I'd be careful. There are still plenty of Shinigami about."

Ichimaru nodded his head. "Thanks fer the warnin'. Took the back route ta get here, anyways. I ain't got no interest in them Shinigami no more," he explained, his eternal smile wide.

Ishida Uryū. Ichimaru had the slightest inkling the Quincy would believe him if he told him what was told to the others in Lancashire...but this wasn't the time to do so...

"One thing, though."

Returning to the present, Ichimaru tilted his head. "Hm?"

Uryū appraised the man before him, eyes slowly slanting in thought. He had the strangest suspicion... "Where is Kurosaki Ichigo?"

His smile widening, impossible as it seemed, the man shook his head. " Ya Karakura Kids. So scary," he teased, "but yer pretty smart, Ishida-kun, so I'll tell ya. He...is with the Vizard."

Letting out a breath of air, Uryū looked to the ground in relief. Ichigo was still alive. That was good enough for him. However, he knew that if this news hadn't reached anyone else, or so it seemed, there was a reason for the secrecy. "...I suppose," he said softly, "I can't tell anyone else?"

"Well, s'not like I told ya where he is. His family knows he's alive, so that's good enough, ya think?"

Nodding slightly, Uryū hummed in agreement. So Isshin and the girls did know...That was good enough, as well. He straightened up, raising his head to meet the man's invisible gaze. "I'll give it some thought before telling anyone else," he stated, "considering the fact we're being spied on."

At this Ichimaru rose an eyebrow, but didn't panic. He knew for certain there was no one else in the vicinity.

Going silent, Uryū considered the former traitor once more. There was much he wanted to know...but felt this wasn't the right time to ask more questions. He had a purpose and fulfilled it; the strange figure was merely an ally he never knew he had...of sorts...despite being a Shinigami. But that was the last of his concerns at the moment. For the moment...

He began to turn around. "Farewell, Ichimaru Gin," he murmured, his expression betraying his outwardly neutral verdict.

With that, the youngest Quincy turned on his heels and left with a burst of Hirenkyaku, leaving Ichimaru alone once more in the theatre of war.

He slightly opened his eyes, and then turned to face a certain location. He looks at you, putting a finger to his lips. " _Shh_ ," he hushes with a wide, knowing smile.

* * *

Ichimaru left Karakura Town shortly after speaking with the Quincy, having no longer felt a desire to explore the area. Instead, he decided to drift, visiting random towns and cities in Japan for the hell of it. It wasn't too long before he began to feel the creeping exhaustion overtaking him, and decided to rest for a while.

Though not in any pain, his body now refused to move too much more than the meager energy needed to lift a hand or shift his legs. He still had a few hours left before he was to return to Lancashire and he was already considering going back now. It was obvious his body wasn't ready for this much movement...

He sighed, resting back on his hands as he sat on the edge of a building in some obscure town in Japan, numerous miles from Karakura. It was small and utterly rural, which was at odds with what looked like a ruined industrial complex in the background of the town, towering over all the small houses and buildings. He wouldn't even be surprised if most of the population could see him, though he paid no mind to such a possibility, watching the sky.

His expression abruptly twisted as a sharp pang grew in his chest. Simultaneously, he felt something unusual at the edge of his senses. Grasping his chest, he lowered his head to scan the horizon and slightly opened his eye in a squint. He saw nothing unusual and there weren't many people walking about the town at the moment. As the pain increased, a chirping sound emitted from the collar around his neck. Hissing softly, he slowly made it to his feet.

The moment he did, and just as he was about to turn away to create a pathway back to Lancashire, he spotted a familiar orange-haired figure walking down the street. He halted, blinking to clear his hazing vision, and then gave a large smile. Now, that would explain both the unusual feeling prickling his senses and the reason why sensing him had triggered an attack.

The same lightly tanned skin, the same athletic body, the same signature scowl, and, of course, the same vibrant orange hair identified the person walking towards the building Ichimaru stood upon as none other than Aizen Sōsuke's teenage executioner.

_Ho_...he mused, taking a moment to watch the teen shift some groceries carried over his shoulder, and then eyed the direction he was walking in. There weren't any buildings in his path that were also grocery stores or locations of noticeable interest, including the one Ichimaru stood on, meaning...Turning slightly, he considered the complex building in the distance.

...Was it possible...?

He hissed sharply, leaning forward as the pain in his chest spread up his neck and down his arms; he could vividly picture his nerve endings going alight with the familiar sensation. Stiffly raising his left arm, he made a symbol in the air, creating a translucent portal, and gave a single glance back to the teen before swiftly retreating inside.

_Found ya, Ichigo._


	8. Snake Tongued Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, Ichigo and Ichimaru meet.

An orange-haired teen exited the Unagiya Shop, having finished his errands for the day. The young woman who took over his shift had arrived a few minutes before his time was up. He and the woman, whose name Ichigo was still unable to remember after all this time, were two of the handful of people working for their boss, Unagiya Ikumi, but they all managed. Most of the people who called thought it was an eel store, anyhow...

He decided to walk instead of taking the bus, today. It was sometime around late afternoon, and if memory served right, it was Lisa and Rose's turn to make dinner. A small smile spread on his lips at the thought, remembering when he first met the Vizard and witnessed their crazy antics...Now, the antics were an everyday occurrence. And he thought his father was a lunatic...

He didn't go straight home, wondering around the peaceful town. Even after a year, he was still unused to Akazuki-chō, be it he had lived in Karakura-chō all his life. Regardless, he was rather content, both because he didn't have a choice and because he truly did enjoy his new life to an extent.

Though he couldn't go to school, he may as well have private tutors, considering all the Vizard were well over one hundred years old and had plenty to teach him. Love and Hiyori didn't seem to have anything to contribute that wasn't already being given, and Rose, Lisa and Hachi were his primary teachers who taught him educational lessons including music. Lastly Kensei, Mashirō and Shinji were his secondary teachers who taught him after-school activities like fighting and...strangely...cooking. He already knew how to do both of the latter quite well...but apparently not well enough in their eyes.

It was later in the day, and he exited a small CD store with the intentions to return home, when he suddenly froze. A shiver of terror went down his spine as his sixth sense alerted him to danger nearby. But this was unlike the other threats he had picked up in the past. Never before was he able to perceive so much with his simple senses alone, as this entity approaching was apparently  **powerful**  and  **dangerous**.

He spun around, body tense and ready to bolt at a moment's notice, staring intently down the sidewalk. He probably looked rather stupid in the eyes of the few people about, standing there with wide eyes, hands out at his sides and starting off at nothing, but he really didn't care by this point. The presence was closing in, right around the corner. He took a few steps back, slightly turning in the preparation to run. Someone then appeared from the corner sidewalk, looking forward and towards the street, this someonethe source of his alarm.

His eyes went wide, a strange mix of horror and confusion overcoming him. That pale, lanky form...nearly skeletal in appearance...sharp and lacking much shape...His eye twitched, mouth slowly opening in a gape as his scrutiny continued when the face turned to him...said face framed by silver hair...Slant-eyed expression, eyes practically closed...smile so terribly great, it looked carved upon the skin...some eerie, closed-lips version of the Cheshire Cat's grin...

He blinked, and then blinked again. He couldn't tell, but had a feeling the slanted eyes blinked back. Finally, like the intelligent person he was, he pointed and continued to back away. "You..."

Ichimaru's expression was a borderline of amused and sinister, his smile impossibly widening. "Oh~ Ichi-kun~!" he sang, turning towards the teen and beginning to approach. "Never thought I'd see ya in Japan again!"

His glare intense enough to wilt life, Ichigo held his ground, his fists just waiting to be used, balled tightly, and his legs were tense in anticipation of a kick or jump or—

"My, my. A 'mere' human an' I can feel yer battle instinct just radiatin' from ya," Ichimaru tut, placing his hand on his chest in mock hurting. "An' don'cha think if I wanted ta hurt ya I would'a done so? Ya know my lil' giftfer doin' things...fast." His smile widened when realization flashed in the ocher orbs.

Though taking this into consideration, Ichigo simply narrowed his eyes while the man approached. Despite his words, that didn't explain why he was feeling jumpy, that the man before him was not to be trusted even morethan the last time they spoke. Something was different, and Ichigo, and his senses, didn't like it. Soon they were just a few respectful feet apart, and he shifted uncomfortably from the unnerving aura so close to him.

"...Then what do you want...?" he asked through clenched teeth. His muscles were still tense and his veins showed from beneath his skin. "If it was just a friendly visit, a simple 'hi' and 'bye' would've been enough."

Humming softly, Ichimaru tilted his head, appraising the teen. It was a pleasant surprise to know, in spite of the lack of his former power, Ichigo was still...so...unique. Sighing to himself in chiding, he calmed his mind of his chaotic thoughts, and thusly watched the teen's tense posture slowly relax as he reined in his bloodlust.

Five months.

He had ended up watching the teen for five months, since finding out where he was.

Whenever he was allowed to leave the United Kingdom, without even thinking about it, he returned right back to Japan and spent most of the entire day searching for one certain orange-haired teen. He thought the hybrid as a specimen, constantly needing checkups; an entertaining thought. When he finally found said teen, he observed from a distance, which somehow, someway, led up to his current mindset...

Towards the latter half of the fourth month, something happened. At first, he was simply drawn to the teen's very presence, and didn't think too much of this. But after a while, something was triggered. He realized using the simple excuse of being "curious" wasn't valid, and eventually, this began to pull at his thoughts. Some other feeling was stirred within him, something angry and dark, slowly growing within his heart and causing a peculiar itch to get the best of him.

Ichimaru was coming to consider that his mind was a little more than messed up, after all...

To think, not too long ago, he wanted to keep the teen alive.

"Ya don't gotta be so tense, Ichi-kun," he berated playfully, waving his hand dismissively. "It's just nice ta see ya, is all. Last time we saw each other, I was dyin' an' ya was all 'banzai' ta kill Aizen, lookin' real sharp."

At the mention of that time, in his mind's eye, Ichigo saw the broken body of the man before him lying on a wrecked slab of building...He shook his head, murmuring, "I thought you had died..." He slowly relaxed, as much as he could in such a presence, when the strange, threatening aura emanating before him disappeared...

A humorous thought entered Ichimaru's mind the moment the words left the teen's mouth. He chuckled, tilting his head to the side while saying, "Technically speakin', I am dead~ And, I suppose, ya could'a considered yerself somethin' along them lines t—"

"You know what I mean!" the teen growled, obviously not in the mood for games and familiar with Ichimaru's tendency to distract.

Frowning, though it appeared more like a pout, Ichimaru lifted and waggled his index finger side to side in scolding. The teen needed to loosen up. "Assumptions, Ichi-kun. Ya ever heard of 'em?"

"Wh—" Blinking, taken aback by the abrupt question, Ichigo rapidly shook his head. "...What?"

"The English word is  _'assume'_ , right?" Ichimaru continued, saying the word in flawless English, taking his audience of one by surprise. "So English-speakers say when ya  _'assume'_ , make an assumption, ya make an _'ass'_ out of  _'you'_ " —he pointed to him— "...an'  _'me'_ ," he pointed to himself, saying each of the four words in English again.

Befuddled, and slowly putting the strange English (it had to be American) joke together, Ichigo stood in silence.

A quick scan of the teen's body affirmed he was no longer ready to attack, just as Ichimaru had intended. "Get it?" he asked with a grin.

His answer was a mere rising of an orange eyebrow.

Said grin stayed in place. "...Ya don't know too much English, do ya...?"

Eyes rolling, Ichigo replied, "I know enough, I get the stupid joke." He immediately paused as realization dawned on him. "...That's not the point!" he suddenly shouted, hands at his sides in fists once more.

With a sigh and another semi-pout, Ichimaru leaned against the building wall beside them, not missing how the teen moved away as he did. "I obviously didn't die, Ichi-kun, ya just assumed I did," he reminded, looking up to the darkening sky.

Brows furrowing, Ichigo quickly retorted, "Don't call me that." As soft chuckles were his response, he took this time to appraise the man.

Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, an open, hooded gilet, and long, loose pants reminiscent of hakama (unless they were), Ichimaru looked odd, considering Ichigo hadn't seen him in anything so modern. His clothes were similar to what Ichigo had seen worn in the cities of Japan, though knew the clothes were likely from the UK. However, around the man's neck was a light blue-green scarf Ichigo knew he had seen somewhere before. The right sleeve of his shirt was also empty...

...So, he really did lose his arm...

Ichimaru took notice of the teen's scrutiny, but didn't react, deciding to feign ignorance. After an appropriate span of time looking off, his slanted gaze returned to the younger man to see him watching closely. "...What?" he asked obliviously, cocking his head to the side.

Orange brows impossibly deepened. "I'm trying to decide what to make of you."

"Oh?"

Narrowing his eyes, Ichigo gave the man a brief look-over. "You were Aizen's right-hand man..." he said, and then added with a scoff, "no pun intended."

"...Oh." Ichimaru's fingers itched to touch his right shoulder, but he kept his hand limp at his side. "...That..." he began, moving off the wall and looking forward. His smile slightly faltered, and then it was back to its sly brilliance once more as he turned to walk back down the street.

Suspicious and confused, Ichigo took a moment to observe before following him, figuring he was expected to do so. He walked up to the street corner to wait for the green light, somewhat beside Ichimaru, somewhat behind at a comfortable distance.

"...Urahara-san put this collar on me, Ichigo-kun, so ya don't gotta worry," the man said once he approached, lifting his hand to pull down his scarf, showing the device.

Ichigo's eyebrow rose, appraising it. It looked similar to the one he wore, just a little less...fashionable. "He knows you're alive?" he asked in surprise.

A second after he spoke, the light changed, and the cars hadn't even stopped before Ichimaru was paces ahead, though somehow he appeared to move at a normal pace.

Following behind him, frowning at his silence and mannerism, Ichigo idly noticed how the silver-haired man seemed out of place, standing apart from the few other people about with his height and gangly form. Perhaps that was why he raised his hood as he walked...

There didn't seem to be any sort of destination in mind, though Ichigo realized they were heading to an open area, a park, where there was seating around a fountain. It was here Ichimaru stopped, taking a seat on an empty bench facing the fountain itself, and after some internal debate, Ichigo decided to stand, waiting patiently for the man to answer his question.

"Urahara-san found me...took me in..." Seeming to come out of a short daze, Ichimaru tilted his head and looked at him, still smiling brightly. "Had me all on town arrest fer a whole year, too."

Ichigo gave a double-take at the strange term, then ignored it, letting the news sink in. So Ichimaru had been with Kisuke for an entire year. Why was that somehow highly believable? "...Okay, but..." He trailed off, taking a moment to organize his mind, fishing out what it was he wanted to know. "...What happened, that day?"

Leaning back, Ichimaru's smile widened. "Aizen happened. Aizen always happened. That day, Ichigo-kun, the Gotei an' ya weren't the only ones intendin' ta get one on the bastard," he explained smoothly with surprising nonchalance. "I saw a chance...an' I took it. Gave 'im the killin' blow...but then it happened."

This wasn't what Ichigo had expected hearing. He had turned to face the older man, attentive, but doubtful. "You attacked Aizen?" he asked skeptically.

"Ya wanna hear the story or not?" Ichimaru's hidden gaze turned to him. "Then ya can ask all the questions ya want..." He then moved aside on the bench, reaching over and patting the empty space for the teen to sit.

Mostly sure the man wasn't going to begin randomly attacking him, Ichigo sat down, but left a good amount of space between them. He rested his elbows back on the bench, sighing while facing the slant-eyed enigma. "Alright. Shoot."

"...After followin' Aizen in the Dangai..." Ichimaru looked upwards as he began, "...he destroyed the Kōtotsu—well, what'd ya think happened ta it? Yer expression's funny—an' then we entered Rukongai..."

-:Edth:C:-

Several long minutes later, Ichigo sat still, fingers netted and pressed to his mouth while staring at the ground. After the man stopped speaking, his gaze slowly hazed over; his mind went back, now over a year ago, to the scene he came upon after leaving the Dangai, his father slung over his shoulder and staring Aizen face-to-face. When he had surveyed the area, he clearly remembered...what was her name...Matsumoto, in no condition to be out and about, leaning over the fallen, bloody body. Upon the pale face, he had spotted faint, almost glowing blue light from between a slanted eye, staring at him...

Blinking out of his reminiscence, he briefly glanced at the former captain and traitor of Soul Society.

It was difficult to swallow.

...But the idea that Ichimaru was trying to kill Aizen from day one was...

If the story were true, he would have no problem with Ichimaru being out and about, as he, unlike Aizen, was truthfully more of an enemy of his friends than his own. He just wouldn't want the man to bother him. But if the story was false...what were the true intentions...?

The smile ever-present on his face, Ichimaru sat still as he watched the pondering teen, though his hand trembled as it dangled off his crossed leg. Now was not the time to have an attack, not around so many humans who would want to "help" him, blow his immortal identity if he went unconscious...and not around Ichigo. He didn't want to have to explain that part of his story...

It was a miracle, in his mental mantra and attempt to hold himself together, he heard the teen's murmur.

"I don't trust you," Ichigo admitted, "but...the possibility of your story being true is...high."

To keep up his façade, Ichimaru hummed in acknowledgement.

Scoffing, Ichigo lowered his hands from his face and glanced over again. "So, then...what are you going to do, now...?" He could have sworn he saw the man's brow creased in exertion, but his reflexive blink made the image disappear.

Inhaling, Ichimaru looked up to the sky. He stayed silent, appearing to think, but he already had an answer to the question. During the silence, he summoned all his willpower to prevent himself from trembling and breaking his cold, jeering mask.

Once he was sure he could speak without showing any sign of strain in his voice, he shrugged. "No idea, really. Never intended ta get this far along...but ya don't gotta worry 'bout stuff like that."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "Urahara lives in the United Kingdom. You're here and not in Karakura Town, the only place in Japan I'd think you might go to. What the hell are you doing on this side of the world?" he asked, though it sounded more akin to a demand with his forceful tone of voice.

The curves of the pale mouth turned up impossibly more. "Why, visitin' my ol' buddy Ichi-kun, o' 'course~"

Eyes still narrowed, the teen shot a quick glare into the man's direction before standing up. "I said don't call me that," he growled, the usual scowl on his face as he prepared to leave. He had a feeling the man wasn't just joking with that sentence. Huffing, he scratched his neck while he looked away. "...Well, I should have been home a while ago. But...the past is the past. Despite what could have happened...and what you did...I'm not one to judge if your intentions measure up to your actions. But you're not my enemy, never really were, so..."

As the orange-tressed youth spoke, Ichimaru lowered his head.

It was minute. So very minute, if he were anyone else, he wouldn't have sensed it at all. But it was there, the faint, untapped power sleeping within Ichigo. And while his calculating mind weaved this new information to his thoughts, Ichimaru's smile intensified as he congratulated himself on the success of step one.

This was all too easy.

This glee was enough for him to continue ignoring his tingling body, and he leaned back, smiling almost smugly. "Good ta see yer becomin' what ya should be, Ichi-kun~" he chirped joyfully.

"—I said don't call me that!" Ichigo repeated, shooting yet another glower at the man. "It's annoying!" And only immediately after saying this, and seeing the eerie smile grow impossibly greater yet again, he realized that was exactly why the man continued to call him that. Shaking his head to focus to what was said, his eyes narrowed. "...And...what do you mean by that?" he asked, voice lowering warily.

Smile widening, Ichimaru stood, eyes slightly parted. Before Ichigo could react, the man's long legs easily crossed the gap between them and he placed his fingers on the teen's chest. Ichigo had only a second to process this as he suddenly gasped and practically jolted on his feet from the distinct feeling of a surge within him, deep in the bowels of his very soul. It was powerful, slightly dark and uncanny, but distantly familiar all the same.

It happened for only a few seconds, and suddenly Ichimaru was walking away, leaving him bewildered and in wide-eyed shock.

"Ya ain't powerless, Ichigo-kun," the man called to him, causing the teen to snap out of his daze and turn into his direction. Without so much as a goodbye, his pace casual and carefree, Ichimaru continued to walk away.

All Ichigo could do was continue to stare after him, speechless, with his hand on his chest. He could have sworn, just for a second, he felt reiatsu during that surge. The strangest, unnerving thing was it wasn't from him...but from Ichimaru.

And it was the most bloodlust-laced sensation he had ever felt since he first met Kenpachi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Random note, here...If you've been reading the original fic on FF.net, you know how...GOD-AWFUL the original S-TB chapter is. 
> 
> Normally, I don't make such pointless authors' notes, but I just want you all to know this:
> 
> THIS FUCKING CHAPTER IS FINALLY NO LONGER THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE.
> 
> ...Carry on.


	9. Fiend for a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heretical teachings begin.

The accelerated chirping rang in his ears as he stepped through the portal to arrive in Lancashire outside of the Back-Alley Shoppe. His collar's beeps were blaring, his vision was already blurring, and he had a feeling he was going to pay dearly for denying the entity within him a reunion with its master. But it was worth it.

From here on out, anything would be worth it.

Within the shop, Tessai was the first to hear the chirping of Ichimaru's collar, be it he was coincidentally close to the front of the shop already. He swiftly approached the open front door, only to just barely catch Ichimaru's slumping body as he stumbled forward. The younger man's breath was ragged, his eyes slanted open and unseeing.

"Oh..." he muttered, trying to right himself and failing miserably, "Tsuka...bishi..."

Wordlessly, Tessai helped him walk back to the infirmary, feeling the pale body shake from effort. Despite this, the younger man managed to keep himself on his feet. As programmed, his collar's sensory system detected the location and ceased chirping after a few rounds.

Unsurprisingly, Kisuke was already inside the infirmary at Ichimaru's bed, a new canister of the stabilizing drug attached to a mask. Upon seeing him, Ichimaru managed a strained smile.

"This...collar's...real good..." he breathed, climbing into his bed with Tessai's assistance. He lay heavily upon it while his mask was immediately placed over his mouth, to his relief. "Got here...with time t'spare..."

Shooting him a wry glance, which was reciprocated with a low chuckle, Kisuke quickly explained, "The chirps the collar emitted were at the degree indicating you will be having an inten—"

Both Kisuke and Tessai abruptly jolted back, nearly blown off their feet by the rapid spike of Ichimaru's reiatsu. He began to choke, convulsing violently with his eyes wide open, though his eyeballs were already rolled back into his head. Familiar with this, no matter how disturbing it was, both ex-captains remained calm, grounding themselves with their own reiatsu.

The past months of dealing with Ichimaru taught them that they could use their own reiatsu to occasionally and assist stabilizing the man's attacks. It was similar to combating it—it, as in the entity within him. If they could successfully stabilize Ichimaru's reiatsu, it meant they managed to overpower it, as it was still weak within his body. But it was not guaranteed.

-:Edth:C:-

Ichimaru found himself back within his inner world, pulled in abruptly while listening to Kisuke explain...the obvious, by the sense of it. He was having a violent episode, no doubt, and he was simply relieved he wasn't in any conscious pain. For the moment.

Worse yet, his mindscape had changed again. Though he stood upon a tree trunk, branchless as it was, the sky was darker than twilight, more akin to early nightfall after the twilight hour's passing. It was...foreign...and all the more disturbing considering this was supposed to be his sanctuary.

Too long a time had passed since he was last in his inner world. His zanpakutō...He only heard Shinsō in garbled whispers, and even when he would just begin to understand her words, he blacked out into a deeper unconsciousness where her words couldn't reach. By habit, he kept what remained of her sword form near him as often as possible, but...

He closed his eyes, sensing her faint presence fade even further. As it did, deep within him, he felt what reserves of strength and power he had left replenish just enough. His hands clenched at his sides, realizing what was happening. She would give her own existence up for him. It was a forbidden technique, risky and deadly, and he could die immediately should she fail.

He didn't want this—her ending her life for his—for more reasons than because his lifelong, soul companion would disappear.

What little emotion he truly kept to himself overcame him at this realization. "...Shinsō..." he whispered, glancing down as the sky began to crack and shiver, "...didn't I make ya a promise, too...?"

There was a faint thrum that resonated within his being.

_"Even if you don't hear or see me, Gin..."_

His inner world finally shattered, leaving him standing in an abyss.

_"I am always with you."_

-:Edth:C:-

...This was not what had happened in the past.

Kisuke stood at the foot of Ichimaru's bed, a glowering mix of displeasure and resignation darkening his features. As was the norm during Ichimaru's episodes, the man had paroxysms, his soul tore from the inside, he was restrained with bakudō when he tried to claw at his chest, and despite the initial help the anesthetics were the year before, they only worked depending on the intensity of his attacks; this time, he had vomited blood once more.

When he abruptly went still, both Tessai and Kisuke had only a second to believe with relief that the anti-pain medication had kicked in. Then the droning beep met their ears. In a normal situation—or what could only possibly be considered "normal" with all things considered—this wouldn't have been a problem. It wasn't the first time Ichimaru had flatlined, so they waited a minute; the life support would bring him back.

Then two minutes passed.

Then three.

Four.

Five.

By ten minutes, a period of time unheard of, they were forced to believe the inevitable had finally happened. It was shocking to come to terms with, after all that had happened in the past...

Gin Ichimaru was dead.

-:Edth:C:-

Now there was only one question: what was to become of  _it_?

Kisuke deducted it would continue to "devour" Ichimaru's spiritually enriched body, as it was nowhere near completion. The crux of the matter was just that; it wasn't complete. Ichimaru himself had both consciously and subconsciously rejected it, and doing so lessened its ability to steal his life force so easily. However, this left Ichimaru's body frail, weakened and otherwise not a "fulfilling meal".

Once it finished his body, it would require another host to feed from.

For the time being, Ichimaru's body was kept in the infirmary, covered by the bed sheet. His deteriorated wakizashi, sheathed, was placed beside him.

Shortly after the ordeal, Yoruichi, Kisuke and Tessai sat around a low table, as was the norm, to discuss what had happened and what to do next. There, the former Onmitsukidō commander explained what she had witnessed mere moments before Ichimaru returned to the shop; naturally, she had followed him during his excursions out of Lancashire.

Kisuke blinked at her, his cup of tea still in his hand, just inches from his mouth. "...They...met?" he repeated incredulously, head tilting to the side. At the nod of affirmative, he looked into his cup, murmuring to himself, "...Within a single day...What were the odds...?"

"It appears what he said about the artifact's attraction to the boy is true," Tessai voiced.

As Kisuke nodded in agreement, Yoruichi narrowed her eyes. She had to remain a distance from Ichimaru lest he became aware of her presence, so she was unable to hear what was said between him and Ichigo, but she had sensed something odd during his time with the young hybrid.

"Two things I sensed during that time didn't set right with me," she said, getting her companions' attention once more. "...During the duration of the period Ichimaru spoke to Ichigo, beginning from the moment he took notice of him, he...was...off. It was as if...some presence overcame him. It was...strange. It slightly subsided as time passed, only to return at full force before he left. And right before leaving," she crossed her arms, pausing briefly as if to gather herself before continuing, "he did something that brought back Ichigo's reiatsu, his power. It was only for a few seconds, five at most, but I could feel his mother's bloodline in him."

Whereas Tessai seemed to take this with awe and interest, Kisuke only shook his head, closing his eyes to wonder into his thoughts. So much. There was so much he knew...so much they needed to know only hecould tell them. And now...

"Kisuke."

He sighed, nodding, "Yes. I know, and I agree. Their meeting cannot bode well, and I suspect Ichimaru's death was caused by it."

Tessai made a deep sigh, taking a sip of his tea. "...I suppose he never lied to us...Thus far, there is not one thing he has said we can prove false."

"...I hate to admit it, but I think he told us the truth, as well," Yoruichi agreed with a slight frown.

Kisuke sighed once more. Of course, he came to this general conclusion as well; there was something about Ichimaru...There was no reason for him to lie, for one...and even he had said he no longer had to hide. In fact, it was evident he needed to tell someone what he knew...

"The entity considers Ichigo its master after Aizen's defeat at his hands. If Ichimaru is indeed telling the truth, the only other potential hosts are Ichigo, Kenpachi Zaraki, Yachiru Unohana, Jushirō Ukitake, Shunsui Kyōraku, and the General Commander of the Gotei himself." Kisuke sat back, glancing upwards in thought. "Ichigo...is the best candidate because of his potential and mixed heritage. And, well, of course it has already chosen him as its current master," he analyzed, glancing at his companions.

"It wouldn't be able to reach him on its own, I'm supposing?" Yoruichi asked, finally taking up and drinking from her cup.

"In theory," he responded ruefully. "Unfortunately, it is far more sentient than I originally believed...just as he said. There may be a way to do so we aren't aware of."

She took a sip of her tea, then lowered it to the table before crossing her arms. "I suppose we have our work set out for us, then."

Both Kisuke and Tessai looked at her with questioning expressions.

She grinned at them. "You know what I mean.  _Them_ ," she emphasized, golden orbs giving a keen shine. "We need to contact them as soon as possible. Ichimaru said the sooner we speak to them, the sooner we'll know where we—specifically our allies—stand with them."

Tessai hummed, "I agree. I should also begin working on the spells he spoke of. They will be of great use to us once we initiate contact with them."

Nodding, Kisuke couldn't help but give a slight, humorless chuckle. To think, what they were going to do was literally unspeakable and unthinkable just months ago, and now...after all they had witnessed, which was so little in comparison to what they were told..."Now that we speak of it, our reality seems direr than we believed..." he softly commented.

They continued to talk until late into the night, and then retreated to their quarters for the day. Each of them had their next day planed out for them and were determined to pick up from where Ichimaru left them, despite the severe risks involved.

...But they didn't get the chance to properly start.

* * *

For at least the unfortunate third time, once again Kisuke was jolted from his sleep by the sounds of harrowing, soul-searing screams. Unlike the last time this happened, however, the tremendous pressure of a powerful, nearly unreal reiatsu accompanied these screams. The three adults each made it to the infirmary at once, but past the threshold was a barrage of pressure that even threatened to force them to the ground.

Its sole inhabitant, however, like a twisted, haunting déjà vu, had his eyes rolled back into his head, the sclera pulsing with the cracks of red veins. His body had completely arched back, pulling the sheet that had covered his body to the floor, and he grasped his chest while babbling...apologies, of all things. His skin was so pale, green-blue veins could be seen pulsing underneath in their attempt to bring blood to his heart to make up for what he was losing. Said liquid was pooling in his mouth and flowing down its sides, once more staining the once white sheets red.

Neither of the three could believe it. Again.

Ichimaru was  ** _alive_**.

There was a volatile aura emitting from him, as if something was angry. Could it be...?

And then, just as it started, it all abruptly stopped. As if a powerful wind died down, the three in the doorway stumbled in place from the abrupt cessation of reiatsu. Regaining himself in a second, Kisuke entered the room and came to Ichimaru's side. The man was breathing raggedly, but forcibly, as if some outside force was making him breathe against his will.

Kisuke tensed and leaned back a bit, wary and perturbed. It really  _was_  forcing Ichimaru to live in his condition...and it evidently wasn't too happy with his body shutting down the way it did. What the scientist did not understand, however, was why it took so long for it to bring him back.

Just what was going on inside of this poor man...?

"...Yoruichi..." said the scientist, glancing back at her with a severe expression. "It is probably wise to leave, now."

Without hesitation, she nodded and retreated out of the room, whereas Tessai moved towards the bed and began to take up the ruined sheets.

"I will begin as well," he said, his expression unusually serious. "I do not wish for this to continue, either."

"Do what you can, Tessai." Kisuke was lost in thought, staring at the half-open eyes that stared back at him from the bloodied body. "...Do what you can."

* * *

To the entire household's reluctant surprise, Ichimaru was awake just two weeks or so after his episode. Granted, awake didn't at all mean functional, as he couldn't so much as move his head, but his steadily lucid eyes would open and glance around. He was otherwise in the same critical condition he was in when he was first put under Kisuke and Tessai's care: hooked up to every monitor and life support available.

When the day came that Ichimaru was functional again, it was quite soon afterwards and was discovered by chance when Kisuke simply walked by the infirmary. He stopped upon seeing the frail form sitting just a bit upright with the help of the adjustable bed, head lowered and slightly longer hair hiding the man's expression. He still wore his mask, as evident from the deep breaths visible even at Kisuke's distance.

He stepped into the room. "...Mr. Ichimaru?" he quietly called, hoping the younger man was awake.

There was a deeper breath taken before Ichimaru slowly looked over at him, eyes open wider than they normally were. He appeared just as Kisuke thought he would: tired eyes and absolutely no smile upon his face, though a languid half-smile was briefly given. "...Ura...hara..." he breathed, voice raspy and low from lethargy and the damage to his throat. "...How long...did ya think...I was dead...?"

"...Long enough until we realized your body wasn't deteriorating," Kisuke replied with a few small nods. He approached with purpose, coming to the bedside to give Ichimaru an impromptu checkup. "...Though the episode you had helped as well. Your body continued rejecting it even after you...'died'."

The miniscule smile somewhat widened. "I did die...fer a lil' bit..." Ichimaru murmured, allowing himself to be looked over as if this were natural to him. He didn't miss the scientist's frown.

Kisuke took a small, tubular flashlight and gently tilted Ichimaru's head up before briefly flashing light into the left eye. The pupil immediately contracted, as was to be expected. He repeated on the right eye and his frown deepened as the pupil contracted painfully slow. Lowering the flashlight, he asked, "How well is your right eye's vision?"

The man shrugged, reaching up to touch his eye. "Changes...a lot. Sometimes I can't see anythin'...then...sometimes...it's real clear."

Something else to keep his own eye on, Kisuke noted to himself. He then lifted the flashlight again and without being told, Ichimaru opened his mouth. The moment he looked inside, Kisuke was alarmed.

The teeth were fine, the gums were fine, but the back of Ichimaru's mouth—and likely down his throat—was obviously not. Faint grey veins extended up his pharynx and palate, nearing his uvula, and pointedly weren't there the last time Kisuke examined Ichimaru's mouth.

He moved away, placing the flashlight into a pocket. He opened his mouth to speak—

"Don't tell me," Ichimaru interrupted briskly, leaning back on the pillow. "...I don' wanna know...Just...keep it...fer records...an' such..."

Kisuke had a thought to dissuade this, but thought better of it. There was always the uncanny possibility the man already knew. "Very well...Do you feel anything? Itching, scratching...?"

"Nope."

"Please inform me if you do." A nod was his answer. He then broke out of his serious demeanor and took out his magical fan. "I have some good news~"

This did slightly interest the younger man. "Oh...?" What was it about? Ichigo? Them?

"It's about them."

Ohh~

A large smile finally broke out on Ichimaru's pallid face. "Oh, so now ya believe me?"

"Undoubtedly. You were right; they've always known this. Yoruichi came into contact with one of them and received an immediate response when what you said was brought up," Kisuke explained, greatly enthusiastic. "They said they weren't promising anything, but would try to bring the information to their king."

With a pleased hum, Ichimaru murmured, "Better...than I hoped..." His eyes closed. "Thought...it could take years..."

Looking over the monitors, Kisuke hummed in agreement. "We were ignorant for thousands...A few more shouldn't hurt."

"True...Hm, much respect...to Shihōin...for goin' in alone." Ichimaru opened his good eye. "...They could've destroyed her very... _existence_."

"That is Yoruichi," Kisuke agreed. He moved away from the monitors, eyeing the younger man's chest, where it was. "Until those few years come, what are you going to do?"

Silver hair parted, showing its owner's face as he looked up. "...I'm just...gonna wait. Been waitin'...fer many decades...fer this ta happen..." he replied, giving a knowing smile. "...What's a few more years?"

* * *

In Akazuki Town, days went by for Ichigo and a certain silver-haired fox hadn't been seen again. If he would pass by the street corner or the park's fountain when out and about, Ichigo would wonder if he had spoken to Ichimaru Gin at all. But then he would remember the depth of that unnerving smile or the overwhelming feeling of danger...and it was enough to reassure him, yes, he very well had.

for Ichigo and a certain silver-haired fox hadn't been seen again. If he would pass by the street corner or the park's fountain when out and about, Ichigo would wonder if he had spoken to Ichimaru Gin at all. But then he would remember the depth of that unnerving smile or the overwhelming feeling of danger...and it was enough to reassure him, yes, he very well had.

He hadn't forgotten that strange touch, however. The undeniable feeling of power within him, the brush of reiatsu about the world...the bloodlust...It was, regardless, a fantastic, familiar feeling. A feeling he seldom admitted to himself he wished to have access to at any and all time, and that he in secret desired again.

He sighed, looking over the items in the back of the Unagiya service van. Sometimes he was surprised he even had a job, all things considered. For some bizarre reason, the Vizard all thought he should continue living a normal life as much as reasonably possible. Something about his job allowing him to move around a lot...

Taking the clipboard from under his arm, he wrote on a form with the attached pen. His fifth delivery in that day was complete. Next job was...

He froze, sensing danger nearby. It was innately familiar and dark...most likely a Hollow. Eyes slightly narrowing, he glanced in the direction he was sure it was in, but in that same moment, it abruptly disappeared. At first confused, it took him a second to realize what must have happened, and he bristled in alarm.

 _Shinigami_ , he thought. A Shinigami was nearby.

Still looking in what was once the Hollow's direction, he closed the van's right door, and then looked forward as he closed the left—

Shouting out, he dropped the clipboard and flinched back. His surprise quickly rose to anger, exhaling deeply through his nose while running his hands over his head and down his neck. "Fuck's sake, Ichimaru!" he exclaimed, only causing the already wide smile to widen. "You bastard! Do not make that a habit!"

"My, what a mouth ya got 'ere, Ichi-kun," Ichimaru tut, leaning against the side of the van as if he'd always been there, looking hale and hearty. "Didn't mean ta scare ya."

Grumbling, positively doubtful, Ichigo reached down to pick the clipboard off the ground, too pissed off to notice the unwanted nickname. "...Did you happen to just take out that Hollow?" he asked with a fierce scowl.

Slipping his hands into his sleeves, the man beamed. "Oh~ So ya can sense some things after all," he commented, his tone of voice a bit too shrewd.

Taking that as an affirmative, Ichigo folded his arms, appraising the man suspiciously. "...How can you do all of this in a gigai...?"

The wide smile slightly changed, causing its owner to appear almost childish. "Urahara-san gave me a real interestin' model," he explained, turning as Ichigo came around to the van's side. "I guess I'm kinda testin' it fer 'im."

It was then Ichigo realized what was off about the man: he had two arms, each slipped into their parallel sleeves. After a second of confusion, Ichigo figured it was a prosthetic. "Eh...and how's that going?" he asked, meeting the crescents again as he stopped before the van's door.

"Pretty well. It does what he wants an' I like it."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed dubiously as he realized something. "...You're not attracting any weird attention, are you...?"

Making what Ichigo might have considered an innocent expression on any other person, Ichimaru tilted his head to the side, awwing. "Aw, ya worried 'bout lil' o' me?" he said in mock heartfelt appreciation.

Grunting at the thought, a deadpan expression crossing his face, Ichigo opened the door and tossed the clipboard inside. "No, I just don't want to be seen near you if you have."

Ichimaru internally chuckled. "That's just like ya, Ichi-kun."

Cue the predictable glare. "Stop calling me that. What do you want?" Ichigo folded his arms, not in the mood to deal with nonsense today. Well, maybe he'd deal with it if his questions were answered...

"I wanted ta tell ya about this lil' game I wanna play."

A metaphorical record scratched in Ichigo's mind. What. The man wanted to play a game? Here Ichigo was thinking they would pick up from the last conversation they had, maybe talk about whatever the hell it was Ichimaru did to him, but play a game?The teen didn't know whether to be wary or confused...

As such an indecisive expression crossed the teen's face, Ichimaru reached a bony finger forward towards his chest, but stopped the advance once realization sparked in the ocher eyes. "You ain't got a choice about whether ya wanna play 'r not," he informed, taking delight at the definitely wary expression developing on Ichigo's face.

This didn't sound right. "...What sort of game are we talking about...?"

"The surprisin' kind. Kinda like hide an' seek."

"Should I be concerned?"

"Oh, very~" Lowering his hand, Ichimaru began to turn away, and then spoke before the teen could, "That ol' thing I did ta ya should help a bit. Just don't disappoint me, Ichi-kun."

Ichigo scowled, taking a step forward. "And if I get help?" he challenged.

The man paused, tilted his head, and then continued to walk away. "It won't make no difference."

"Ichimaru!" Ichigo called, hating how confused and strangely vulnerable he felt. "What did you do to me?" he demanded.

The sudden familiar presence of another Hollow caught the teen's attention and his gaze snapped into its direction. Again, just a second later, it disappeared. Eyes widening, he looked back at where Ichimaru was...to see the languid streets of a small town devoid of the sly fox.

Growling, he hit the side of the van with a balled fist. "Damnit!"

* * *

For the next few days after this abrupt and very strange meeting, Ichigo remained on high alert whenever he left his underground home with the Vizard. He was fine when he was with them within it, but outside of it, he seemed a bit jumpy. Aware that Ichigo could sense Hollows, the Vizard chalked it up to that (or seemed to), and Ichigo was perfectly fine with them thinking that. For reasons he didn't know, it didn't feel right to inform his companions Ichimaru was alive...Maybe it was foolish, but he didn't feel as if he was in any true danger...

...Somehow...

But, of course, Ichimaru managed to make true to his word that being with others wouldn't stop the instigation of the game.

Shopping. They were shopping, for goodness' sake. Ichigo's eyes were wide, staring with disbelief at the two distant colors he saw behind his companions while they took a pit stop at a restaurant in the city. The colors were beside one another and Ichigo would swear they were eyes. Eyes, one crystalline blue, the other a bloody red. Just...staring at him, unblinkingly, in the distance. Somehow, impossibly, they stood out amongst the light of the late afternoon. Eerily...

"Ichigo?"

Blinking, the teen looked up at Love. "Huh?"

"What's up?" Mashirō asked him between her straw, drinking a milkshake.

He looked between the two, and then noticed everyone was looking at him questioningly. "...Uh...Spacing out," he lied, blinking rapidly and looking back at his sandwich, which certainly helped the lie. In actuality, he was trying to get the image out of his mind. But couldn't.

It wasn't any easier from then on, as throughout the walk back to their home, Ichigo swore to himself the eyes were following him. He knew it had to be him because they were always staring directly at him, always in the distance, but locked on his own gaze. Was this the game...? Ichimaru said "hide and seek"...

Well, he wasn't hiding unless, to the man, being out in the open was his twisted definition for it...

Unless...

Unless he meant it more literally: Ichigo was seeking (whether he wanted to or not, he did start looking for the eyes after a while) and the owner of the eyes was hiding.

After the groceries were put away, Ichigo quietly retreated to his room. He only came out to eat dinner in near silence, which wasn't too unusual despite the months that had passed since his attempted execution. He then retreated to his room again, asking to be left alone for the rest of the evening. He felt the eyes of concern and empathy upon his back as he left.

After locking his door, he took a moment to consider what he was about to do. He should be concerned, the man said. Thinking about things, now, that seemed to imply Ichimaru wouldn't have a direct part in this game. Perhaps he was orchestrating it. Regardless...Ichigo did not have to leave the complex. He didn't.

But he found himself taking the hidden passage from his room to the outside despite knowing this.

He arrived some distance from the complex, searching the distance for where the eyes would be this time as he came up from the abandoned basement entrance. He moved the dilapidated door aside, peeking around the corner, and saw them.

It didn't help that it was nearing the evening, causing the two colors seeming—if not actually—to glow in the near darkness. Now that he was alone, they seemed closer, larger, and looked at him from the roof of a building within the town.

Impossible. Unbelievable.

He slowly moved away from the door, taking cautious steps forward into the overgrown field between the complex and the town. Staring back at them, directly, he noticed more things about them that he hadn't before...

The eyes were almond-shaped with the two colors a harmonized, polar opposite from the other. The blue was exactly that, serene and welcoming, in a way, while the red screamed of threat and menace...They were hauntingly beautiful, in their way...

The more deeply he stared, the larger the eyes became. As they did, he then took notice of their pupils. Both pupils were deeply slanted, like a cat's. His heart hammered in his chest as time slowly ticked away, adrenaline pulsing through him, though he didn't know why.

His thought was soon answered when he was blown off his feet and thrown from where he stood, tumbled on the ground, and stopped after some several topples. He spit out the dirt and grass from his mouth, almost ready for this thanks to the adrenaline in his system, but not ready enough.

As if something lifted him up and threw him again, he flew from the ground and landed harshly on his back, causing him to cough and groan from the impact. Quickly, his head snapped up and he spotted the eyes—and only eyes—swiftly approaching him, growing larger and larger—

He flipped onto his feet and ran from them, truly not knowing what else to do. Despite not actually doing anything with his body that came close to his time as a shinigami, he still retained reflexes and some abilities that would put a normal human to shame. One of those things was his running speed, put to good use as he returned to the entrance to the complex and shut the door leading to his room's passage.

His breathing was all the sound he heard, along with the thumping of his heartbeat in his chest, ringing in his ears. But shortly after his run, the sound of unusual laughter reached his ears. Somehow, he could put a face to that laugh...

He damn near kicked the door open and stormed out, though his eyes darted right and left for any sign of those orbs. "What the HELL was that thing!?" he demanded from the figure suspended in the air.

Said figure shrugged bony shoulders, the perpetual smile spread in an eerily toothless grin...like a snake..."Ya have a tendency ta start yellin' as a way of combatin' yer stress...That was a person, not a thing, Ichi-kun; that's rude."

"I DO NOT! What sort of freaking person has eyes like that?!" the teen again demanded, trying his damned hardest not to shout the words...too loudly.

All at once, Ichimaru's smile and very demeanor changed from amusement to a rare, humorless expression devoid of a smile. Ichigo had a strange feeling he said something offensive, causing him to stammer a bit before just going silent. Honestly, he wasn't sure if a smile-less Ichimaru was more frightening than a dangerously smiling Ichimaru...

A tense moment passed before, after some seconds to come to completion, Ichimaru was smiling his signature smile again. "Ya disappoint me, Ichigo," he announced, enunciating every word in a way unusual from his sly, almost menacing drawl. But this delivery was no less menacing.

"What the hell was I supposed to do?" the teen asked, managing not to demand, this time. He was genuinely confused and asking for a solution. "I didn't know what I was up aga—"

In the blink of an eye, Ichimaru went from standing in the air to standing directly before Ichigo, an angular finger bent in his face. Before Ichigo could react to this, a simple pluck from the finger twisted his entire body so his head slammed back into the ground. His arms, body and legs eventually followed after some time in the air from the force.

It was amazing he could still see and was still conscious, his forehead bleeding at the spot he was plucked and trickling blood down his face. With bleary eyes, he looked up to see Ichimaru looking down at him with a frown; the night was just full of surprises.

"Pathetic."

His hair was grabbed and he was lifted up onto his feet all too easily by a man as gaunt as Ichimaru was. And he did stand, though he was just upright because of the positioning of his legs; otherwise, he was teetering and still staring with unfocused eyes.

"That was with just a bit o' what I could do from when ya first met me," Ichimaru scoffed, still without a smile as he let go of the teen. "...Yer not even tryin', Ichigo. I thought ya better than this. Ya been thinkin' ya can't do anythin' but run, not even noticin' ya got wells o' power within..."

Ichigo vaguely saw pale, bony fingers reaching towards him again. He was coming to fear those fingers. "What...are you..."

"Let yer instincts guide ya. Pull from the very world ya live in. Give yerself over..." The fingers were pressed to his chest. "Here, let me give ya another lil' boost."

Like before, Ichigo felt a surge within the bowels of his soul that jolted him on his feet. Suddenly, he felt alert again, no longer in pain and stood firmly on his feet. A wave of that dark, familiar feeling passed through him, and he closed his eyes with a deep inhale. When he did, he felt fully revitalized, as if the air was giving him strength.

"Mm, that's better..."

It happened for only a few seconds, just as before, and when Ichigo opened his eyes, he was looking at Ichimaru's back while the man walked away.

"The game continues, Ichi-kun," the fox called. "Ya ain't see nothin', yet."

* * *

Some days later in the late afternoon, Ichimaru sat at Fleetwood's oceanside, looking into the water. His expression was neutral, lacking both a frown and a smile, and he rested against a rock with his bare feet close enough to the water to become wet every few waves, holding what was left of Shinsō in his lap.

He didn't know what happened, not entirely. Even he didn't have all the answers to what was happening, especially within him. All he did know was that, as Shinsō said, she was still with him, somehow...But her physical form was gone.

There was a way to restore zanpakutō if they were broken, but the technique was too difficult and precarious for him to attempt in his current condition. That and it wasn't as if Shinsō was merely broken.

His fingers absentminded trailed down Shinō's hilt, feeling along the diamond shapes that adorned it to the tsuba.

...There was a way to cheat...to bring her back. Subconsciously, he placed his free fingers to his chest. It didn't like him, not even neutrally. Why would it possibly grant him his wish...

With a soft, somber sigh, he lowered his hands and placed Shinsō into his sash before standing up. He had something to take care of that needed his immediate attention. Thinking about it like that seemed...harsh...because it wasn't as if Shinsō was less important...

He tried not to think too deeply about it, disturbed by all of this as it was, and slipped on his sandals before opening a garganta. He looked back at the town, specifically towards the direction of the Back-Alley Shoppe, before leaving.

-:Edth:C:-

It was evening time when he arrived in the Vizard Town, as he called it. He stood upon a building within it while looking into the direction of the complex the Vizard and their hybrid companion called home. His eyes opened by a sliver as he scanned for a particular carrot-top in the field.

Last time, he was greatly disappointed by the teen's performance during his game. He had watched carefully, using all of his advanced senses and intellect to get a good analysis of what the teen was perhaps thinking, how he reacted to it, and, of course, watching his facial expressions. The only time Ichimaru was at least content with what Ichigo did was when he didn't immediately panic at the start of the attack.

Now if only the teen didn't run away when he didn't know what to do...

-:Edth:C:-

Ichigo peeked around the corner of the door to the basement. No eyes, this time. The other side was also clear. There was nothing in front of him...so maybe this would be a different game.

Game. Why did he have to choose that word amongst the possible hundreds he could have used instead...

Abruptly, something felt as if it wrapped around his ankle.

Just as suddenly, he was pulled from the entrance and into the air towards a figure he could see at the edge of the field below. To his immense credit, he didn't scream or shout at all, though he did grunt from the force of movement. He was brought to the ground near the caster of the spell and hit the grass with a painful thud. Groaning, he looked up at Ichimaru and scowled at the smile upon the man's face.

"...That...hurt," he growled, though he was surprised he wasn't in any worse pain or broke any bones...

"Aw, yer fine. Just wanted ta play another game."

"Figures..." The spell—as it was probably kidō—was released, allowing him to sit upright in a cross-legged position. "So, what's the deal, this time and why are you bothering me?"

The man's smile intensified as he fiddled with the wakizashi at his side, announcing, "'M bored, so we're gonna play eyeless, backwards tag."

Ichigo cringed and leaned back a bit. "That sounds...horrific." And what was the deal with eyes?

"Don't ya worry, ya just have ta close yer eyes," Ichimaru assured.

Why was he doing this again...? Such a question was visible on his face, causing Ichimaru to softly chuckle in amusement.

"'Cause I know kidō...an' ya don't." A finger was pointed at him. "Shō."

The thrust of force was worse than when he was plucked the days before. This time, Ichigo's chest throbbed with pain as his body skid along the grass. He stopped a considerable distance from Ichimaru, lying on his side and his arms around his chest.

"In this game, nobody is 'it'. Ya simply have ta keep on taggin' the person...with attacks," Ichimaru explained as he slowly approached. "An' since ya can't attack me, ya gotta dodge what I throw at ya. With yer eyes closed."

Breathing hard, the teen looked up at him. Anger and confusion with a hint of worry shone in the depths of those dark eyes. "...Hadō...?" he breathed.

"Only the first, Shō. Now get up an' close yer eyes, ya look pathetic down 'ere."

At first, Ichigo didn't want to comply. In fact, he should probably be yelling for the Vizard to help him against this maniac. But something within him took the challenge with pleasure and forced him to stand to his feet. He lowered a hand from his chest and stared hard at Ichimaru before closing his eyes. Forcing down the feeling of vulnerability, he tried vainly to reach out with something, some sense that maybe even humans had if they tried hard enough. There had to be something, if Ichimaru, of all people, was doing this. There had to be...

He was hit from the side, pushing him to the ground, but he stood back up not a second later. Frowning, he tried again to reach out with his external senses and...found that there was a difference, if he actually concentrated. But what?

From out of nowhere, he felt strongly that something was about to hit him. He didn't react on it, thinking he would have a moment to figure it out, only to be hit from behind and slam to the ground face-first.

Three weren't any wisps in the air, no whizzing in the grass to signal Ichimaru was moving around. But without a doubt, he was out there, firing kidō at him, likely with that stupid smile on his face. Growling at the thought, Ichigo went right back on his feet and spun around.

A feeling tingled within him: something was going to hit him again. This time, as if handing over his thought to instinct, he allowed his body to do what it wanted and moved swiftly to the left. Seconds after he did, he sensed the energy whiz by him.

He heard a low sound of appreciation in the distance, causing him to give a small smile.

...He could get used to this...

Two more alerts that attacks were coming his way. He didn't know how, but somehow he jumped up and twisted himself in the air, feeling the energies pass where his head once was between his angled legs. He landed in a crouch, realizing he could control his desire to react upon these instincts.

He then decided to challenge himself and went into a run. Before long, he took a dive and rolled from three attacks, then pushed himself off his arm, balancing on his toes, to dodge another from there.

"Oh, ho~" Ichimaru whistled. Seemed like Ichigo was getting the hang of it.

With one hand, the man continued firing attacks, while his other went for his zanpakutō. In the moment, he completely forgot he didn't have a blade to use.

When he heard the sound of a blade unsheathing, he didn't immediately think too much of it, his mind already made up to use it against the teen. Only when he ceased firing kidō and extended his blade did his eyes widen at what he just did.

Ichigo, on the other hand, panicked when he suddenly sensed a more powerful attack coming his way. It was quicker than the Shōattack and he felt the blade nick the side of his arm as he barely dodged.

Unsmiling, Ichimaru stared at his wakizashi. This...wasn't supposed to be happening...was it? Slowly, his eyes slanted as he looked up at the panting, tense teenager, putting two and two together.

Of course.

His signature grin appeared on his face and he spun the hilt of his blade in his hand, positioning his feet for stability. "Ikorose—"

If Ichigo was panicking before, he truly panicked, this time.

"—Shinsō!"

The teen kept his eyes closed and swiftly moved aside just seconds before the blade hit him. Ichimaru could see the teen was terribly uneasy, shown by the sweat beginning to bead at his forehead, but to his credit, he still kept his eyes closed. That familiar determination...

His smile widening, Ichimaru used the momentum to swing his blade low as if he were to cut off the teen's feet, and like before, Ichigo jumped, narrowly avoiding the attack. Moving the extended blade up, it went for Ichigo's head, and Ichimaru's smile deepened even further when only inches of orange hair were lost as the teen ducked.

"Okay, enough!" Ichigo shouted, staying low to the ground and opening his eyes to look up at where the blade was above him. "...Did I just...?"

Retracting Shinsō, Ichimaru hummed in delight, both at seeing his blade again and at Ichigo's feats. "Ya successfully evaded my attacks, Ichigo. Wanna know how?" he asked playfully, too content not to.

"Yeah, I wanna know," said the teen, sitting down with a leg lifted to rest his arm on. He was breathing heavily from the hammering in his chest and the anxiety he felt. But he couldn't believe it, despite the obvious...

Appearing near him, the man reached down to touch his chest. "Instinct."

At first Ichigo panicked from the familiar pose, but steadily calmed when nothing happened. As the hand moved away, he looked up into the smiling face. "...Instinct?"

"Ya might not be able ta sense me, but ya know when yer in danger. Instinctually. That's all it is," Ichimaru explained, slipping his hands into his sleeves. "Ya insult yerself when ya run all the time. After all ya been through, is this really such'a shock?"

"...Well..." Glancing at the grass, Ichigo pursed his lips with a sigh. "...Somewhat. I was...so prepared to be normal again. Human. Then the whole thing with my strange reiatsu—that I shouldn't have—and being able to sense Hollows...I wasn't and am not prepared for it when I can't do something about it."

"Like what?"

"Fight Hollows. See them, at least." Looking back up at the older man, Ichigo blinked when said man wasn't where he stood a moment ago. He was now further away, looking up at the clear sky.

Turning into his direction, the teen took in this sight. Ichimaru was a tall and slender man, easily six feet tall or more. His gauntness made him seem almost sickly, angular and skeleton-like. When wearing robes, he seemed to be swimming in them on most occasions sans when he moved.

The slant-eyed gaze turned to him, and with his previous observation, Ichigo indeed realized how Ichimaru resembled a fox with his angular face and slitted eyes.

"Well don't ya worry about lil' things like that fer now. Focus on honin' what senses an' abilities ya already have," said the man, seemingly unaware of the teen's scrutiny.

Abilities? "What abilities? And what else is there to hone?" Ichigo asked him, brushing off his pants as he stood up.

Ichimaru's smile became shrewd. "Abilities ya always had, even before yer shinigami powers awakened."

Noticing this, orange brows furrowed. "...How do you know all of this?" he asked quietly, somehow knowing he would be heard despite their distance.

And his words did reach the man, who grinned as he replaced his zanpakutō at his waist and turned around. "'Cause I've known of ya since the day yer parents met."

Ocher eyes widened in surprise. Then...Ichimaru was like Aizen, watching him all his life? Knowing everything that the teen didn't know about himself, including these abilities he supposedly had...?

What would having these abilities mean, exactly? If they were anything akin to what Ichimaru was hinting, he would at least be skilled enough to defend himself, which was always necessary with his unusual reiatsu. There were only a few incidences in the recent past when a Hollow acquired too much of a whiff of his reiatsu and went after him. And Ichigo did run, during those times...

He wouldn't have to run anymore? He would be able defend himself? Maybe—just maybe— even...fight for himself...?

"Ichimaru!"

Having begun to walk away, Ichimaru stopped in his tracks. His grin intensified.

Swallowing his pride, though he was nervous at just whom he was speaking to, Ichigo called, "...Is...there any way you could...teach me how to harness these abilities I have?"

"Oh...?" Seeming to think about it, Ichimaru's head tilted to the side, silver hair draping like a curtain across his face. "Kinda funny fer ya ta ask me, since I know ya don't really like bein' around me...but..."

Despite seeing it several times already, Ichigo was still shocked when he found himself face to face with the man again.

"...Yer like me, Ichigo...Ya hate bein' powerless." Slender hands moved to the hilt of his wakizashi. "S'a real frightenin' feelin'...ain't it..."

Still waiting for an answer, Ichigo stood in tense silence. Hell yes, he was nervous and didn't quite like being around Ichimaru, but...he was sure he would get used to it. It was happening already.

The perpetual smile, which had begun to falter, suddenly went alight with mischief and glee. "Why, sure, I'll teach ya. Anythin' fer Ichi-kun~"

"Don't call me that."

A fixed, smiling stare was his response.

"...Please."

"Maybe~"

Thus, in that moment, Ichigo became a student, learning to control a slightly new, slightly old power, to his fourth teacher.

...And what a damnedstrange relationship it was, both on and below the surface...


	10. Interlude III – Training Feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unusual teachings Ichimaru imposes upon Ichigo commence.

Something strange was happening. The entire household noticed it; for the past few weeks, Ichimaru seemed somehow more contented when he came back from his outside excursions. As usual, it wasn't Ichimaru himself that made them believe this, but something about the man. Something about the way he managed to have this air of contentment about him even though he otherwise did nothing different from his everyday routines or activities and continued to have attacks. As he was no longer under surveillance with Yoruichi absent and suspicion of his reliability proven unnecessary, there was no way to tell just what it was causing the sly fox to be so jovial...more than he normally was. Somehow.

A part of Kisuke no longer wanted to have any suspicion of the erstwhile traitor. To him, there wasn't much of a reason to. Ichimaru was an adult and there were several things that could be causing his change in demeanor. At the same time, however, traitor or not, it was simply Ichimaru's nature to be devious, a bit like a child, but more mature and several hundred thousand times more dangerous.

One day, when Ichimaru was away, a hesitant peek at a long-abandoned tracking device showed that Ichimaru had traveled back to Japan. Remaining perfectly calm, for there was no reason to jump to conclusions, Kisuke decided to contact the Vizard for an update on how Ichigo was doing.

"Aw, he's fine," Shinji assured over the phone, "in fact, he's been having these nightly walks that kinda seem to brighten him up."

"You don't really think that's what he's doing, do you?" Kisuke asked, hearing the slight sarcasm in his old friend's tone.

There was a chuckle. "Not a bit. But we don't see a reason to investigate, on our end. No strange reiatsu fluctuations, no unusual Hollow sightings...He's just out in the field or on the aboveground floors of the complex...Now that you mention it, he's out right now."

As the Vizard spoke, Kisuke mentally debated over if he should bring attention to Ichimaru's survival. For the moment, there wasn't a reason to involve the Vizard in these confusing, harrowing revelations, save for the simple fact that they, in the bigger scheme of things, did need to know...eventually.

"Heh, actually, the one who is the most suspicious is Kon," Shinji continued.

"Really, now...?" A metaphorical light bulb went alight above Kisuke's head. "Hmm, can you put him on the phone for a moment..?"

* * *

Ichimaru watched the teen meditate on the grass, as he had been doing for the past twenty-odd minutes, while resting against the gate around the field and ruins. No longer were they playing games, this was training to the very meaning of the word, but only from Ichimaru's dictionary. Every of the past few times a week he met with the teen, he instructed for him to meditate. Initially, the teen seemed somewhat hesitant, but then remembered just what it was he was trying to do and did so without question. Fortunately, meditation was nothing new.

Today, however, they were moving from honing Ichigo's instinct and battle reflexes to something slightly more advance. Ichimaru already devised a way to introduce it to the teen without breaking the news of his heritage too abruptly; he would build up to that as the training went on.

Exactly thirty minutes passed before Ichigo opened his eyes with a deep inhale.

His smile wide, Ichimaru explained, "Today, yer gonna strengthen yer mind more than yer body. I had ya meditatin' so often ta prepare ya fer this..." He moved off the gate and removed his hands from his sleeves.

As his new teacher spoke, Ichigo stood up from the ground. He then watched as Ichimaru's clothes suddenly moved upwards, as if a powerful, swift breeze was whipping them by. The same reaction was with the grass below the man's feet, and only from seeing the action once performed by himself did Ichigo realize what was happening.

"Reiatsu," he deduced.

"Exactly. Ya can't feel it like ya could before, but it's 'ere." Head tilting to the side, Ichimaru asked, "What is reiatsu?"

Strengthen the mind, indeed. Ichigo quickly opened year-old memory archives in his brain to remember. "...Manifestation of...a person's reiryoku...?" he asked, taking it from what he remembered doing more than what was told to him.

Humming in approval, Ichimaru nodded, "Good enough; not bad. I know textbook stuff ain't yer specialty."

The teen made a soft sound in agreement.

"An' what's reiryoku?"

"...Uh...spiritual...energy?"

"Again, not bad. Ya got the gist of it. Every human, every spiritual bein' has reiryoku, no matter how lil'. It's power, really, an' when it gets past a certain level, it gives ya abilities." Ceasing manipulation of his reiatsu, Ichimaru beckoned at the teen. "Yer reiatsu feels like a Hollow's. That's cause ya were part-Hollow, once, an' thanks to it, ya can do things to manipulate spiritual energy." This wasn't quite true, but a little white lie was necessary.

With an incredulous blink, Ichigo didn't know what to say about it.

"Ya know how ya felt revitalized by simply takin' in air after I plucked ya?" At the nod, Ichimaru said, "That's 'cause, like weak Hollows that can live off reishi in the air, yer weak enough to get revitalized by it, too."

Again, Ichigo didn't know how to react to this. A part of him was greatly insulted by this, that he was so weak...

He then saw that Ichimaru was approaching him.

"What I want ya to do...is sense my reiatsu, indirectly...an' manipulate it into a ball o' energy in yer hand."

"But that's—"

"Shō."

Ichigo had less than a moment to dodge the spell, eyes wide and snapped his head to look at his questionable mentor. "What the hell?!"

"Say it's impossible an' I'm gonna do that again. I just explained how it is," Ichimaru warned, his signature smile deepening considerably. He then shook his head. "Someone's gotta teach ya some manners. What're they teachin' kids, nowadays...?"

The teen scoffed, "Yeah, that's rich, coming from you, the most sarcastic, mocking bastard I've ever met."

"Tut-tut, Ichi-kun. Do ya treat all yer teachers with such disrespect?"

This did snap Ichigo out of the moment and he lowered his head, looking to the grass. "...No."

Ichimaru suddenly stood before him and placed a bony hand on his shoulder, taking him by surprise. "Then let's begin."

* * *

Kon handed the phone back to Shinji and jumped off the table, running with purpose towards the main entrance and exit of the basement. None of the other Vizard stopped him, leaving him to his devices, though Shinji looked after him with a rising brow as he put the phone back to his ear.

Kisuke was up to something again.

With his speed, Kon made it to the ground floor of the ruins in moments, and only then did he slow down to think.

Kisuke asked him to look after Ichigo. Apparently, there was something going on related to the teen's past that could possibly hurt him by accident...or something of that nature. Accident, coincidence; it didn't really matter to Kon. Fact of the matter was that someone was counting on him to look after the one person Kon could consider family. And the bribe that he could possibly have a body of his own had absolutely nothing to do with it.

The honest truth was that in the past year and some months that Ichigo and Kon came to stay with the Vizard, the two were nearly inseparable. The only times Ichigo went out alone were during the times he went to work and later in the evening, which, coincidentally, was also the time Ichigo started to go on these nightly strolls. Or whatever they were. Naturally, Kon left Ichigo his privacy, but curiosity bit at him; if Kisuke was onto this, he had to be interested.

"Righto..." He looked into the direction of the field and took his time to walk over.

-:Edth:C:-

Ichigo stood with his eyes closed and Ichimaru's hand on his shoulder, attempting to sense his teacher's reiatsu. He was told not to rush it, that if he concentrated, it would come. Exactly what he was concentrating on was at first lost to him, but after a minute of standing there, he came to notice what he could only describe as a sensation that moved through his entire body. It both numbed him and, yet, made him alert. It felt nothing like reiatsu, but reminded him of the way it used to feel. If he could focus on that sensation...

It was incredible, really. Ichimaru was perfectly content with his position, watching the calm, focused expression on his new trainee's face. The teen truly had no idea just what he was doing; it wasn't as if Ichimaru was letting out a bit of his reiatsu for the teen to work with. No, the metaphorical "tap" was completely turned on, his reiatsu swirling about them, though in a controlled manner, and flowing through the meditating body. And to think, in such a weakened state, Ichigo could still withstand it...

It was incredible, but defied common logic. As was the nature of Ichigo himself...

...But he couldn't keep doing this for much longer for two reasons: one, it was dangerous for him to release such high levels of reiatsu at all in his unstable condition, and two, the Kyokkō spell he cast around them would only last for but so much longer because  _of_ his abnormal reiatsu.

Fortunately, his new student didn't disappoint.

After a few short minutes, the teen opened his eyes. "...I can feel it..." he murmured in awe. It was a heavy feeling, powerful and sharp. Different as it was from the way reiatsu itself felt, he could sense the pressure it created.

"Good. Now manipulate it, shape it to yer will."

Brows furrowed in concentration, Ichigo reached out with his mind to move the reiatsu. It flowed through him and he directed it to his right arm. Though he couldn't see the energy, it came as a surprise when he felt the sensation of something forming in his hand.

Ichimaru, however, clearly saw the bright blue energy appear in the teen's right palm. He lowered his reiatsu and his hand from the hybrid's shoulder to take up the alit hand, observing the shape of the energy. It didn't have much of one, "lying" in the palm. "Concentrate," he directed, lowering his hand again.

Keeping his palm raised, though it was difficult when his body still tingled with numbness, Ichigo tried to feel "around" the energy to mold it, somehow. To his surprise, there was something around the energy to help mold it, and when he pulled on it, he felt the energy not only begin to take shape, but it grew larger.

"Well, well."

He briefly looked up at his teacher. "What...?"

Grinning, Ichimaru slipped his hands in his sleeves. The reishi particles were gathering to the collected reiatsu. "Ya really have no idea what yer doin', do ya?"

"...Not really..."

"What we were just talkin' 'bout a while ago?"

"...Reishi?" the teen asked in surprise, his voice low as he tried to keep the majority of his focus on what he was going.

"Yep. Yer able ta do this so easily 'cause it's natural fer ya. It's somethin' yer body ain't surprised ta be doin'," his teacher explained. As the energy grew larger, larger bits of blue began peel from the air in Ichimaru's sight, combining with the blue in the teen's palm. More reishi particles. "Yer doin' good."

More determined, now, Ichigo molded the shape until it was spherical.

Smiling slyly, Ichimaru directed, "Now pull the energy back an' change its shape."

Concentrating, Ichigo slowly used his other arm to just slightly take hold of where he sensed the orb was and pulled it. Its form wavered a bit, causing him to clench his teeth and pause. He didn't move the energy again until it was no longer quivering, and slowly continued until it took the shape of a long, thin strip. He then exhaled, unaware he was holding his breath at all.

There was light clapping, directing his attention to his teacher, who stood a short distance from him and was clapping. "Congratulations, Ichi-kun," Ichimaru beamed, abruptly stopping his applause. "Ya just created yer first spiritual weapon."

-:Edth:C:-

Kon stood on the third floor, looking down through a window at the field with a frown. That was indeed Ichigo down there, but how he did he getthere?

When the Mod-Soul first ventured to the field, he didn't see anyone at all. Figuring the teen was around the town, he decided to wait instead of going after him, so returned to the ruins and took his sweet time traveling around the first to the second floors. For his small plush body, the building was enormous, so it killed time wonderfully and allowed him to get to know the construction's exterior along with the interior used for typical travel (behind the walls, for instance).

By the time he made it to the second floor, a glimpse out of a broken window showed a bright blue dot in the distance of the field. That was when he ran to the third floor to look out and, apparently, see none but the orange-haired teen himself...along with someone else wearing dark clothes. There seemed to be a ball of reishi in what looked like Ichigo's palm, or that's what Kon believed the familiar light was. How the heck did Ichigo manage that when he was still unable to see spiritual...anything? Was it because of that other person?

...Was Ichigo training...?

"...Huh." With a blink, Kon stood back and folded his plush arms. If that's all Ichigo was doing, then that was...a good thing. A very good thing. But why wasn't he training with everyone? Why didn't he introduce this other person to them...?

Humming in suspicion, the brows of his beady eyes creased significantly. He considered what he was going to do before making up his mind and jumping down from the third floor to the ground. Keeping low, he traveled through the grass swiftly, but silently, intending to sneak up on the two in the distance.

-:Edth:C:-

"Weapon?" Ichigo wished he could see it. By how it felt, it was similar to an oversized needle, not quite a blade, and it stung his hand, but he could tolerate it. He sighed, lowering his left hand and turning it around in his right. "It won't do me much good if I can't see it..."

"That's where yer wrong." As the words brought his student's attention back to him, Ichimaru took a few listless steps around. "Ya can feel it. Keep workin' on it an' it won't matter if ya can't see it, so long as ya have control over it, can sense it an' know how it can be used."

Letting this sink in, Ichigo slowly nodded. Definite training if he would have to do things on his own. He smiled a bit at that thought. It was something to distract him and it wouldn't be without good rewards. Just the thought of it also reminded him of good old days...

He focused back on the energy and shaped it back into a sphere. Behind him, Ichimaru spoke, "Next time I see ya, we're gonna work on harder stuff. We're movin' along nice an' quickly..."

Ichigo noticed that, too. This wasn't as hard as he initially thought it would be; just a week ago, he didn't even know he still had advanced reflexes in his human body. Perhaps he could have his powers back sooner than anyone thought...

"Are we done, already?" he asked, a hint of disappointment in his tone. He moved the sphere into his left hand, feeling it rest there despite being unable to see it.

"Fer now..."

With a soft sigh, Ichigo allowed the energy to disperse. His hand felt empty. "...Thank you, Sensei," he said softly, turning his head to look at Ichimaru.

The man's smile widened. "Still feels strange ta hear ya call me that. No problem. I owe ya a lot, y'know..."

A questioning glance was directed at him. "Wh—"

Shifting in the grass brought both of their attentions to their respective sides the sound was coming from, Ichigo to his side and Ichimaru to his back. Ichigo didn't see anything, but Ichimaru made a soft sound before walking past him. "See ya in three days," he called. "Remember ta train."

"Alright. Same ti—?" Ichigo looked around.

No one was there.

No one, that is, except for whatever it was coming towards him in the grass. He didn't think it was anything to be concerned over, as Ichimaru would have said something. Putting his hands in his pockets, he waited for whatever it was and blinked when he spotted a familiar shape.

"...Kon?"

"Ichigo!" called the Mod-Soul, racing towards him. He skidded to a stop in front of the teen, and then looked to his right and left. "Where's that other person?" he asked.

Eyes widening, Ichigo briefly looked into the direction Ichimaru disappeared into. "Ah..."

Knowing exactly how to get the teen to react, Kon folded his arms and, casually with obvious inflection, asked, "Ah, is it a secret love interest?"

Stammering, Ichigo shook his head, wondering where the hell Kon got that one from. Then again, this was Kon..."NO! No, it's just a...friend!" he insisted, not sure if he should have said "teacher".

But that made it sound as if he was trying to insist something that was. "Don't worry, I understand. You're at that age, Ichigo," Kon assured, grinning at the flush upon the teen's face. He then turned around and walked away, eyes closed.

He knew what he saw. The person was tall and skinny, wearing loose clothes and had...white hair? They could also apparently teleport or simply use shunpō. A Shinigami? He sincerely doubted that; after what they did to him, why would Ichigo want to be around them?

Smacking his forehead, Ichigo groaned. He should have figured someone would eventually find out, he was training close to Vizard, after all. But Kon was...not quite the person he'd prefer knowing...

Kon decided not to ask about the energy Ichigo manifested, not this time. For now, at least he was aware of a portion of this little mystery. He suddenly stopped and looked back at Ichigo, thinking.

The familiar feel of the plush body jumping onto his shoulder caused Ichigo to lower his hand from his face. Kon nudged him. "C'mon, I won't tell anybody," he insisted. "Who was that person?"

Ichigo didn't answer, sighing as he began the walk back home. Instead, he asked, "Were you spying on me?"

"No," replied the Mod-Soul, which was actually true. "I was just looking around the third floor when I saw you and came over."

"...What's on the third floor?"

"Lots of broken things."

Scoffing, Ichigo cast a wry glance into Kon's direction. "If—and I do mean if—you were to ever meet that person, you'd have to swear not to panic and run away."

"Not panic and run away" made it sound like anything but good company if that could be one of Kon's reactions, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he nodded, thumping his plush chest. "You can count on me, Ichigo!" he said, truly hoping that he'd be able to do that if he ever did meet this mysterious person. And there was a good chance he might.

Giving a small smile, Ichigo looked forward. He had his homework set out for him and was rather looking forward to returning to the underground training area. Now if he could only find time to use the space without attracting attention...

After returning to their underground home, Ichigo said goodnight to everyone before cleaning up and retreating for the night. Several "goodnight"s were given around before he finally closed his door. He leaned against it for a moment or so before thinking back on all he had been doing up until this point.

...There wasn't much. If it weren't for his job and occasional lessons from the Vizard in place of school, he would probably laze around, haunted by his recent past. Though it didn't normally appear as such, that experience from the past year messed him up inside. He remembered the warnings, but had hoped so dearly that what happened wouldn't have. It was a risk he was willing to take at the time, a risk that felt was a good idea at the time, and he learned his lesson the hard way.

With a yawn, he moved from the door into his bed, deciding to save such thoughts for another time. However, as he lay upon the bed, he couldn't help but wonder over that thought one last time.

If Ichimaru hadn't come along...wherewould he be right now?

* * *

The next day, Ichigo awoke early, which was unusual for him during ordinary circumstances. However, he was so hyped up from the day before that his body woke him earlier than even he intended. He looked to the small low table by his desk to look at the clock. It was 5AM. He groaned a bit, but then decided he might as well take advantage of it and got up.

After putting daywear on and washing up, Ichigo tip-toed to the kitchen to grab something to eat. He didn't bother opening the fridge and simply grabbed an apple before retreating. Better off not even beginning to make a big deal of breakfast and wake everyone up by doing so...

With some eagerness in his step, he went into the main room and towards what looked like a hallway at first glance. This, however, was actually a visual illusion; as he came closer his feet found stairs and began to descend to the training area. The entrance was usually kept open, but he would close it from the inside. He stepped on the ground and turned around, crouching to reach for the ramp he had walked down upon. That way, if anyone were to come over, he would know before they saw what he was doing...

...Wait...Exactly why was he keeping this a secret...?

He thought about it for a moment, his hand ceasing to reach out. If his training came out, that meant he'd have to explain who taught him...which meant attention to Ichimaru. He didn't even know the man that well and was certain Ichimaru would rather no one else knew he was alive. He hesitated a few seconds more before deciding to chance it and lift the ramp; he could always make something up. It slid back a bit before closing, leaving him in the artificial light of the underground area.

He then turned around and exhaled, beginning to stretch.

Single training session one: begin.

* * *

Exactly two nights later, he was back in the field, meditating even though Ichimaru wasn't there yet. As he did, he concentrated on the energies around him. As Ichimaru had told him, he did train in the past few days and came to realize a few things. He could actually sense the energies around spiritual creatures, which allowed him to, in turn, pinpoint where they could be. The reishi within the air was also what he became capable of sensing. He couldn't recall this sensation so strongly during the time he was a...Vizard.

After doing this a few times, he found that he could gather the energy from the air, which he figured to be reishi as well. From there, he was able to collect reishi to his hand, and quite easily, at that. He then tried shaping the reishi into other shapes, bigger shapes, and was thus far at least able to create giant blades—or needles, as he called them—the length of his entire arm and about two inches in width. Though they still stung. The bigger they were, the more they hurt, so he didn't make anything bigger than the "needles".

More than pleased of himself, he felt more assured of what Ichimaru was teaching him and was ready for whatever else the man had planned for him.

Nearly thirty minutes after he began meditating, he felt a shift in the air not too far from where he sat in the grass. The simple knowledge that he was able to sense such a thing brought a small smile to his face.

"Oh~ Yer here early," said the familiar sly voice.

He opened his eyes and turned around. "Yeah. Figured I'd get a jump...start..." he trailed off, confusion clouding his expression.

Ichimaru's right arm was missing. Rather, his prosthetic right arm was missing, leaving the right sleeve of his shirt dangling in the breeze. Ichigo tried not to stare, but even though he saw him like this once, he was used to seeing him with two arms.

"Wanna move ta the next stuff right away, eh?" the man asked, not even seeming to notice Ichigo's expression or staring.

"Uh..." Forcing his eyes to focus on his teacher's face, Ichigo nodded. "Yeah. I learned a few things while training for these past three days."

Ichimaru's smile widened. "Do tell."

The teen looked at one of his hands, raising it. "...I can sense reishi, now. It's very different from the way reiatsu feels. I can use it to sense the location of spiritual creatures, like when the reishi in the air shifted when you arrived," he explained, glad to see his teacher nodding as he spoke.

"Good ta know yer a good student." A bony finger was suddenly raised.

Immediately, Ichigo went on alert and instantly dodged the first kidō attack. Ichimaru moved further away with shunpō and fired several more in rapid succession, forcing Ichigo to move around to miss them easier along with his reflexes.

If it weren't for the fact that Ichigo could feel the reishi in the air ripple and let his intuition guide him on where to move, it would look mighty strange with Ichimaru just standing there, pointing his finger at him, and being unable to see anything.

This went on for several short minutes until the kidō attacks ceased. "Good." Ichimaru lowered his hand. "Wanted ta make sure ya weren't fergettin' nothin', but I don' think I'll have ta do that from now on. Ya learn things an' remember 'em better if ya experience 'em, I've noticed."

To his satisfaction, Ichigo wasn't panting at all. If anything, there was an unusual light that shone dimly in the teen's eyes, Ichimaru noticed. It wasn't there the last time this happened...

With a soft hum, he flash-stepped closer to Ichigo and announced, "On to the next lesson, if ya will."

Ichigo turned to face him. "Yes, Sensei."

Grinning, still not used to hearing that, Ichimaru walked up to the teen and placed a finger to his chest again.

Bracing himself, Ichigo's eyes shut as that familiar dark feeling arose from within as he jolted on his feet. Suddenly, he could feel everything, but not in a spiritual sense. His eyes opened to see Ichimaru standing a distance from him again, smiling knowingly, and looked at his hands. They felt...strange...as did his entire body. He felt stronger...more alert than ever before, a tingling sensation at the surface of his skin.

"...I don't suppose you'll ever tell me what it is you do when you do that..." he said rhetorically. His voice sounded different to him, and maybe it was. It was deeper. No...it sounded further away.

Ichimaru watched as that light shone even brighter in his pupil's eyes. It was a steely grey light, but he had a hunch that wasn't its true color. Interesting. "Instinct," he repeated from before, parting his eyes by a bit. "Yer Hollow soul left it over. It's somethin' ya will probably never be able ta get rid of. It's that deeply embedded in ya."

Looking up at him, the teen looked a tad unsure. "Instinct" meant his Hollow in some way or fashion, and in his current state, was that really safe? "...This is dangerous, isn't it?"

"Fer me. Not fer ya, but don't ya worry 'bout ol' me." The eyes closed.

"...What did you do...?" This time, it was a question.

"All I do is boost ya. All the things ya do, it's always been in ya. But ya ain't got time ta dilly-dally..."

Ichigo didn't have time for any more questions when suddenly a cut appeared on his arm, causing him to gasp from the pain and at the spurting of blood. He moved away and stared up in shock at Ichimaru, who had blood on his sword, still smiling that perpetual smile. This was no shallow cut, either, but a deep one, down to Ichigo's bone. With a shaking hand, he also realized that it cut into his main arteries.

He suddenly keeled over onto the ground in shock, and his heart hammered in his chest. "...Wha...wh...?" he breathed.

Ichimaru stepped around until he was looking the teen at his angle. "Heal it," he ordered, the same smooth, cunning tone in his voice. "Regenerate."

"...Regenerate..." Ichigo repeated. It was meant to come out questioningly, but that failed from his shock. He still couldn't believe this man just cut his wrist.

A familiar pain prickled at Ichimaru's chest, but he ignored it. "Ya can regenerate. Listen...focus on yer wrist, the pain, the wound. Yer body'll take care of the rest, but ya gotta focus on it ta make it start workin'."

Ichigo was becoming lightheaded, dizzy from the loss of blood. It was too easy to focus on the pain, the distinct feel of his skin, flesh, veins and arteries cut open, his life leaving him. It was a horrible feeling. His wrist felt as if it was on fire.

"Concentrate."

His eyes slowly closing, the teen thought so clearly about it stopping, the pain sealing away, water being doused on the flames upon his wrist. He then felt his consciousness fade away, his last thoughts echoing that he couldn't die like this. He wouldn't die like this. He wouldn't allow it.

Ichimaru watched as the teen went still, blood still pouring from his wrist. With a swing of his arm, the blood flew from his wakizashi and he replaced it at his waist. His smile subsiding a bit, he kneeled beside the teen, looking him over with a sigh. Well, so much for the forceful approach. He raised his hand, resting it just above the orange hair, and hummed at what he sensed. There was still life within the kid...and it wasn't yet his time to go. He then lowered his hand to place upon Ichigo's head.

Suddenly, a white foam-like substance bubbled up from within Ichigo's wrist, covering the wound entirely. It moved as if it was alive, causing Ichimaru to stop lowering his hand and lean back a bit with a raised brow, but he watched with rapt attention.

Slowly, the movement of the white substance ceased and it hardened before his eyes. He hummed before tapping it, feeling it was surprisingly hard. With another hum, he leaned over and tapped at the teen's cheek. "Ichi-kun?"

Eyes popping open a shining silver-white color, Ichigo cried out and clawed at the ground, causing Ichimaru to move away from the abrupt spike in Hollow reiatsu. Panting, the light gone from his eyes in seconds, Ichigo looked at his arm, and then easily knocked the hard whiteness away, revealing a perfectly healed but bloodstained wrist.

"Good."

His eyes widened. Good? He slowly stared up in disbelief at the man. "...Good? You fucking cut and nearly kill me and you say 'GOOD'?!" he all but shouted, hands tightening to fists as moved to his knees.

Somehow amused, Ichimaru nodded. "Yes." He looked at the piece of substance as it crumbled to nothingness in the grass, observing, "Yer movin' at a real good pace."

Wide tawny orbs darkened. "How can you just act as if you didn't just—?!"

"Be glad it was me who brought out yer Hollow regeneration," Ichimaru reminded, standing from the ground and moving away. "If it'd been some Hollow makin' ta snack on ya, ya might've been lying on the ground, tryin' ta regenerate, while the Hollow picks ya by the leg an' eats ya whole." He snapped his teeth for emphasis.

Perturbed, Ichigo slowly stood up, his eyes locked on the man. He didn't feel like training anymore, not after a near-death experience like that. Being close to death was nothing new to him, but it felt...different...to experience in his human body. It felt...final, somehow.

Watching him, head tilting to the side, Ichimaru figured the teen had his share for the night. Without warning, he suddenly sat on the grass, legs crossed, and looked to the sky. "Let's take a break."

Considering what Ichimaru said about the Hollow bit, Ichigo hesitated before slowly sitting back down, but kept a good distance between them. He was wondering if he was wrong about the man, that he definitely was someone to consider a threat. Was he...?

"I can be real insensitive sometimes."

This left field remark brought his attention back to the man, brows furrowing.

Ichimaru shrugged a bit, continuing, "My methods are kinda—"

"Weird? Childish?" Ichigo offered. "Plain brutal?"

"But effective."

"...Touché," he grumbled. That much was definitely, unfortunately true. Or fortunate, depending on how one looked at it.

"I understand if ya don't wanna train with me no more. Wouldn't blame ya, actually."

Scoffing, Ichigo replied, "I'm starting to wonder why I didn't consider doing this training with the Vizard."

Ichimaru grinned. "The Vizard can't train ya the way I can."

"What makes you so different from them?" The teen caught himself. "Aside from the obvious?"

At that, Ichimaru didn't immediately respond. For just a fleeting moment, he considered telling the teen about the entity within him, or even hint to it, but thought otherwise. "They don't know what I know," he then explained, looking from the heavens to the carrot-top himself. "I was with Aizen fer 'bout two hundred years. Long time ta be with a man like 'im, long time ta learn a lot o' secrets."

Ocher eyes narrowed. "And why would you share these secrets with me?"

The grin widened, its owner tilting his head childishly. "Because I like ya, Ichi-kun. Ya killed Aizen, too."

Mouth open to rebuke the unwanted nickname, Ichigo paused at the last part. He really...truly tried not to think about that too often. Instead of saying anything in response, he dropped the topic entirely. "...Two hundred years and you still act like a child," he grumbled, looking away.

Observing him, the man softly chuckled, "Aw, that ain't too old at all. I guess I'm kinda near yer age, in human years. No older than my twenties."

This caught the teen's attention. "You gotta be kidding me," he said, disbelief thick in his tone. "That would mean were with Aizen since..."

"I was real young," Ichimaru finished, nodding.

"How'd you get to be so powerful?" the teen asked, trying to recall when he first met Ichimaru in the Soul Society.

"Eh." A shrug. Long legs stretched out on the grass. "I think they considered me a prodigy..." He recalled when that whole ordeal started. At the time, Shiba Kaien was the prodigy, and then he came around...younger than he was, already a seated officer. And then, for him, Hitsugaya came around...even younger than he was, already a captain.

And then...even younger than he was, human-born and still living...Kurosaki Ichigo...

A low scoff brought him from his thoughts. "Sounds like you don't consider yourself one. Able to deal with Aizen for so long? Able to be in his presence for that long? Since you were...what, ten or something in human years?" Ichigo scoffed again, looking at the man with a crooked brow. "Not a prodigy?"

Ichimaru's languid smile evolved into a full-blown grin. "Eh. I'd been plagued with the desire ta kill Aizen fer all that time, ya know. When ya came along, it seemed okay at the time fer me ta die."

Hearing this shocked Ichigo, which in itself came as a surprise. He never would have thought Ichimaru to be the type to think that way. If it were him, he would've been screaming and yelling that he would...do that.

There was a short silence between the two, Ichimaru once more looking at the sky—so clear and starry—and Ichigo staring at him. Only when the grin somehow (somehow) intensified did Ichigo scowl.

"Yer angry."

"Hell yeah. You need to start over, Sensei."

The smile just slightly waned.

"Make a new life for yourself. You're still here, still young..." Ichigo listed it of his fingers, not quite sure why he was saying these things, but too caught up to stop himself. "...I get what you're saying. You're saying you lived like that for so long, so how can do you anything else with a past like that. Well, you probably have thousands of years left in you, and that's plenty of time to learn new things and overcome the past."

At the unintentional reminder that he didn't have thousands of years, Ichimaru smile lessened until it appeared almost bittersweet upon his face. He lowered his head, his hair hiding his eyes as they slightly opened.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. Here was a man who was two centuries older than he was, and he was preaching to him. And the man was also his teacher? He made a face, looking away. "...Sorry...I crossed a line..."

Smiling, the man shook his head. "Nah...You're a genuine kid, Kurosaki-kun..." he said softly, tightly slanting his eyes again to look up at the teen. "I know ya mean well, an' that's what matters. That's...also the nicest thing anyone's said ta me in a long while."

Tension passed from Ichigo's body, blinking his eyes before looking back at his teacher, who finally addressed him correctly for the first time. The smile directed at him seemed almost...kind. Almost. It still had that same mischievous, sly edge to it, but it was different somehow. Somehow.

He felt even more awkward, now. Was he actually making peace with  _the_  Ichimaru Gin? Truly? It felt like an accomplishment. He fidgeted just by an inch or two before standing up, brushing off his pants and avoiding eye contact. "I'm ready when you are, Sensei." Maybe he could give him another chance.

Grinning, Ichimaru went to his feet. "Good. 'Cause ya ain't gonna like the next lesson~"

With a heavy sigh, Ichigo just shook his head, unable to hide the miniscule smile growing on his face. "I'll take your word for it."

* * *

That night, Ichimaru returned to the Back-Alley Shoppe, clenching his chest and the chirps from his collar ringing in his ears. He had to speed this up. Despite the fact that maybe a month had passed since he started training Ichigo, it just wasn't soon enough. The teen had to get stronger, sooner. He didn't want to risk another dangerous method akin to what he did that night; if the teen trusted him, the sooner they could move on to more dangerous things...

...It was bad enough he completely awoke the teen's instincts...

The lesson he said Ichigo "wasn't going to like" wasn't an exaggeration; he attacked the teen with Shinsō while forcing him to the hits and regenerate as fast as he could. After a while, though, that peculiar light began to shine again in the teen's eyes...

Ichimaru wanted to wince at the thought, but didn't. If all went wrong, this was going to be a painful experience for the both of them.

Stumbling into the infirmary, he practically fell into Kisuke's arms, wheezing the man's name. As the creator of the device around his neck, it wasn't a surprise that Kisuke would be there just when he was having an attack.

By now he knew this wasn't going to be a powerful episode, as the chirps from the collar weren't blaring the way they would if he was. This was still going to hurt, but he wasn't at risk to flatline from it.

What was wrong, now, he wondered. Honestly, the entity had no reason to be doing this to him, pulling this strongly on his life force, when he just came back from interacting with the teen. That alone should pacify it a bit, and even more so because he came into physical contact with him.

He groaned as he lay upon his bed, his eyes completely shut and physically exhausted. His wakizashi was taken from his sash and placed upon the table near his bed, right within reach of his arm. Short, quick spasms ran through his body, but he gritted his teeth and bore with it, hand clenching over his chest.

He hated it.

He truly hated it.

But he knew, for sure, that the feeling was entirely mutual. Otherwise, his zanpakutō wouldn't disappear whenever he was out of the hybrid's presence.

Glancing at the sheathed wakizashi, he scowled at the being within him.


	11. Aggressive BullsHITTING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo's training is discovered by Kon. Things eventually don't go as intended...

The following few days after that interesting training session proved to be unusual for Ichigo. He began to see his mentor around town, but at a distance, never close enough to talk and the man disappeared shortly after he was spotted. Only then did Ichigo realize the man wasn't as unnerving to his senses as he was before. Instead, Ichimaru was just another familiar face, someone he felt a natural draw to like he did everyone else he knew.

...If only "everyone else" he currently knew weren't all varying degrees of "crazy"...

He sighed, recalling the lesser version of déjà vu he had earlier that day...

-:Edth:C:-

_He twitched in his sleep as he neared consciousness, brought on by the voices outside of his door giving a poor attempt at whispering._

_"Berry-tan's reiatsu changed again." Mashirō...She seemed to be legitimately whispering._

_"Huh," Kensei scoffed, not whispering as well as he could be. "Why am I not surprised this is happening?"_

_"You're just talking to be talking, baldy." Hiyori, of course...She wasn't whispering either. "I still_ _think it's his Hollow."_

_"Eh, doubt it." Shinji. He was whispering, but barely._

_"Of course you do!"_

_"Shh!" hissed Lisa, also whispering to the definition of the word. "His reiatsu is changing again."_

_There was a short moment of silence. All at once, the group outside of Ichigo's door made a sound of interest._

_"It isn't his Hollow, then. What is it?" asked Rose rhetorically, also whispering._

_"I believe it is simply...Ichigo," Hachi said sagely._

_Another sound was shared between the group, one of understanding._

_"So, in other words, there's nothing to worry about?" Love asked._

_"I wouldn't say that..." Kon muttered._

_Again, there was a short silence, followed by a soft, "What?" from the Mod-Soul._

_"...Whatever the case, we'll just look out after Ichigo," Shinji said._

_"ICHIGO CAN HEAR YOU!" said teen shouted, causing most of the people to start in shock behind the door and scamper away just as he opened it. "SCRAM! You guys are worse than my old man!"_

-:Edth:C:-

But even he noticed a difference since that night, now nearly a week ago. "Instinct", Ichimaru said. That must have meant his Hollow, in some way or fashion, but...how? Not only was he in his body instead of spirit form, so his ability to regenerate was a true shocker, but his Hollow was no longer...

He shook that from his thoughts, trying not to think about either Zangetsu or Shirōigetsu and focusing on the road as he rode in the service van with his driver and co-worker, Junko.

He sighed again, a sound that went unheard over the radio blaring some popular song he wasn't interested in at the moment:

 _Miageta yozora no hoshitachi no Hikari...  
_ (Rays of light from the stars in the night sky above...)

...No...what was at the forefront of his mind was of how different he felt since Ichimaru pressed those slender fingers to his chest that last time. As like before, his senses felt heightened, but not in the way he imagined when he would use that word. It wasn't as if he could willingly magnify his sight or see things miles away...

His hearing, however, did improve just enough that he noticed things that once were unknown to him. His heartbeat was clear to him, for instance. He could block it out, but it was highly distracting the morning after that day.

The most important aspect of this difference he felt could only be described as...

"Ichigo?"

"Hm?" Blinking out of his thoughts, he looked over at his co-worker, who was staring at him. They had stopped at a red light, just around the corner from the Unagi shop.

Dark brown hair swayed as she shook her head. "You've spaced out an awful lot, today," she said, focusing back on the road when the traffic light turned blue.

Sighing, he looked back out his window. "I have a lot on my mind."

She glanced at him empathetically before turning them onto the next street. In moments they were beside the shop. Ichigo exited the van, taking his clipboard and a folder of papers.

As Junko parked, he entered the employee's door and into the office. "Ikumi-san, I'm off," he announced to the black-haired woman writing out paperwork at a small desk.

"Alright, Kurosaki-san," she said, looking up at him. He handed her the clipboard and she nodded in approval at the completed jobs. "Good work, today."

He sighed and scratched his head, walking to a small alcove where a time clock was kept. "That damn dog chased me again..." he grumbled.

"Comes with the job description," his boss easily, offhandedly retorted.

He scoffed, punching out in the machine. "If it did, I wouldn't have taken this job so easily."

She smiled to herself and turned to watch him take off his cap. She recalled he didn't like wearing hats...

If she was honest with herself, Ikumi had become fond of the carrot-top over the past year. He did his work diligently, with little to no mistakes from day one, and could be a focused, charismatic team leader when the rare times arose. For someone so young, he possessed incredible leadership skills...and they seemed raw, as if no one taught them to him.

When he first came to her, it was raining and she at first perceived him as a threat: a tall, muscular teenager with (what she thought was) dyed hair and an almost lifeless, unsmiling expression...He was anything but approachable. " _I saw your ad,"_  he said to her, monotone and distant. " _I would like to take the job_."

He was soon to come out of himself, though he still seldom smiled...That day, something must have happened...

She never asked too much about him, and never had asked. As long as he did his job and followed the rules she laid down, she was willing to risk having a nigh complete stranger working for her, even after all of this time.

Instead, she came to know him the way she did now by observation and simply being herself. She was a blunt, assertive woman, and he seemed to open up to her thanks to imposing that upon him. And from what she discovered, he wasn't too different from most teenagers, nothing like the punk or possible delinquent she perceived him to be that first day.

She watched as he stepped out of the shop, saying goodbyes to his remaining co-workers.

"Don't forget you have next month's first Thursday off!" she reminded.

He paused for a moment, and then nodded as he remembered what she was talking about. "Thanks for the early reminder," he called, before waving and closing the door behind him.

It was a bit of a walk back to Akazuki Town, but he never minded it. Rather, he enjoyed the exercise and observing people. There were also some music stores he enjoyed going into, so it was a nice way to unravel after working. This time, however, he thought about that day of observance coming up, the one his boss referred to.

Ten years ago, an unbelievable event occurred...rendering the whole world speechless...

Some ways from his job, he suddenly stopped and made a face. Deadpanning, he looked to his left. "...Good afternoon, Sensei," he sighed at the elder.

His eerie smile widening, Ichimaru moved off the concrete wall, coming to move closer to the teen. "Nice ta see ya, too, Kurosaki-kun," he greeted, just as formally, but with a mocking edge to his tone that he was so known for.

Shaking his head, Ichigo didn't even bother trying to make sense of the man and continued walking.

Unsurprisingly, his teacher walked with him, arms slipped into his sleeves.

Despite what had happened the last time they met, they walked in companionable silence, to Ichigo's internal surprise. He would have thought he'd react differently, having such a harrowing thing happen to him. Maybe it was because he had experienced near-death situations before that it didn't bother him as much as it could have. Or should have. Alternatively, he did decide to give the man another chance.

...Well, since he was there...

"...Sensei...I was wondering," he began after a few minutes through the town.

"Hm?" Ichimaru's smile widened, as if he knew what was on the teen's mind.

"...What do you think that thing was ten years ago, the one that made everyone lose consciousness?" he asked, continuing to look forward with slightly furrowed brows.

Silver hair parted as Ichimaru tilted his head to the side. "What brought this question on, eh?"

The response wasn't immediate, the teen noticing the now familiar shrewd tone in his heretical mentor's voice. No doubt he did know something. "Next month is the tenth anniversary of that event. The most brilliant minds around the world still can't figure out just what that was," he explained," or why it happened at all."

The Blackout, Ichimaru recalled. That was what humans called it; or rather, that's what unaware humans called it. To common knowledge, every human in the entire world went unconscious for just under thirty minutes that day. Scientists couldn't understand what happened, couldn't find even the smallest clue as to what or why it happened. Even those who were religious couldn't find some concrete reason for exactly what it was.

It just...happened. It shook the entire world, the knowledge that something like that...happened.

"Ah, yes," the man grinned, "the Blackout. Ain't that what ya'll call it?"

Looking over at him, Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "Figures you know something."

"Ah, well, it was a supernatural occurrence, Ichi-kun. 'Course I know, all o' the spiritual planes know more than humans know 'bout it."

"...Stop calling me that..."

Ignoring him, Ichimaru slyly continued, "So naturally, yer Vizard friends know somethin'. Why don't ya ask 'em?"

As intended, the words and the realization that he could do that brought Ichigo's attention away from the pet name. He looked forward again, observing the street they stopped on. "...I could ask them, couldn't I..." he murmured, quite interested in what their possible answers would be.

He was only seven when event occurred, but he remembered it clearly. There hadn't been a single person not speaking about what happened, for nearly everyone awoke to find someone else also waking up from some abrupt, unnatural slumber. Even those who were already sleeping recalled feeling a loss of "consciousness" before awakening.

...He also couldn't forget it because...he and his sisters did not lose consciousness that day...

Unseen by him, Ichimaru leaned forward, grimacing from the sudden pain in his chest. Soft chirps emitted from his collar, catching his student's attention.

"What's that sound?" Ichigo asked, watching the man turn away.

"An alarm." The silver hair hid most of his expression from view, but for just a moment the teen thought he saw a grimace. "Anyways...ask the Vizard."

There was something about the way Ichimaru spoke that caused Ichigo to frown. "Sensei, are you go—"

"Yeah. I'm gonna be away..." The smiling expression was then turned on the hybrid. "But that don't mean I ain't expectin' progress when I see ya again. I want ya ta experiment with what I've taught ya so far."

Nodding, Ichigo was about to let his teacher walk away when he remembered something important. "Ah...Sensei..."

The man stopped, but didn't turn around.

"...I've been...feeling strange...since last time. It's as if...I'm changing, somehow."

This piqued Ichimaru's interest and he held himself together a bit longer before turning around. "How so?"

"My hearing has become stronger," the teen listed, "my senses have heightened, in some way..."

Ah. So, it was beginning...His smile deepening, Ichimaru waved a hand dismissively. "Don't fret over it...embrace it," he said, moving back. "It's a part of ya...Yer movin' along real fast. Won't be long before there ain't nothin' ta teach ya no more..." He then turned back around and walked away.

Ichigo looked off after his teacher, not knowing what to say about that. A lazy wave was given to him before Ichimaru disappeared around a corner.

He shook his head as he turned back towards the direction of the complex in the distance.

-:Edth:C:-

The sound of excited clamor reached his ears as he walked down the stairs and into the main room of the ruins. Stepping upon the last stair, he was greeted with the sight of Kisuke and some of the Vizard watching an unfamiliar young man literally bouncing off the walls.

"What the...?" he remarked, causing pearly black eyes to land upon him.

The young man gave a wide smile. "Ichigo~!" he exclaimed, running up to him and giving him an abrupt glom. "I have a body~! My own body!"

At first alarmed and ready to react, the familiar voice held Ichigo back. "K-Kon?" he stuttered, blinking upon the dark brown hair in his view. He spared a glance at Kisuke and Shinji, who were smiling at the sight.

"The one and only King of New York!" Kon laughed, pulling away to give the teen a good look at him. "Kisuke made this gigai especially for me!"

Ichigo took in the sight, nodding. Kon was now his height, give or take a few inches, with an athletic physique, droopy black eyes and spiky earth brown hair the same color as Kon's plush body's mane. Interestingly, but unsurprisingly, he looked as if he could be slightly related to Ichigo...

Smiling, the teen gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad for you, Kon. I know this is long overdue."

Kon's pearly eyes began to water, but he quickly dried them, turning to Kisuke. "Now I can actually go out in public!" he cheered.

All at once, everyone's smiles dropped. Mashirō and Hiyori gave him glares of warning while Ichigo and Shinji narrowed their eyes at him.

"...N-never mind..." Kon lowered his hands, dejected.

Sighing, Ichigo moved to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, anyway." He gave another pat before walking towards his room.

But Kon had other ideas. Now that he was human-sized, it would be easier to see if what he saw that time atop the third floor was truly Ichigo training or not. He gave Kisuke a brief glance before sprinting towards the teen so quickly, he seemed to fly, and raised his leg in a kick aimed at Ichigo's head. Judging by the force behind him, the hit would've sent the teen flying.

Instead, however, Ichigo lowered his head to dodge just in time, then spun around and shot his leg straight up to hit Kon square in the face with his own kick from the floor. As Kon took the blow, stumbling back and grasping his jaw, Ichigo easily knocked him off his feet with a sweeping kick.

Falling to the floor, Kon looked up to see Ichigo standing over him with his arms crossed...and a peculiar light grayish color in his eyes. "What was that for?" he asked coolly.

"...You've been training, haven't you?" Kon asked with a sly smile.

Blinking, only then did Ichigo realize what he did. And it was a sad thought to consider he probably wouldn't have reacted that way a few months ago. Uncrossing his arms, he nodded. "...Yeah."

Shinji and Kisuke exchanged glances, but remained silent. The others in the room also subtly exchanged glances with one another.

"About time you decided to get off your sorry ass and do something about your condition," Hiyori scoffed at the teen.

Broad shoulders slightly slumped as Ichigo looked away, whereas Shinji gave Hiyori a glare. It wasn't their place to criticize Ichigo for being depressed, after what he'd been through. He needed time, apparently, and it was well merited.

Kon flipped onto his feet, standing upright. "Well, that's good," he said to Ichigo with a smile. "Invite me to join ya one day, okay?"

This did bring a small smile to Ichigo's face. "Alright..." He looked up at Kisuke, who brought out his fan and waved.

"Urahara-san," he greeted, then continued into his room and closed the door. And that was it.

Kon made a face, glancing downwards. He thought Ichigo was feeling better, but...apparently not as much as he thought. He then looked back at Kisuke. "There's someone teaching him," he informed.

Covering his mouth with his fan, Kisuke sighed. Of course, he knew who Ichigo's teacher was; it was just too obvious, even without tracking Ichimaru to Japan. The question was why. What were the motives behind teaching Ichigo how to defend himself…?

Unless...

-:Edth:C:-

By the time Ichigo came out for dinner, Kisuke had mysteriously returned to England just as mysteriously as he had reappeared. It was Mashirō and Rose's night to cook, which made everyone wary. Since they didn't have a table, they all sat around the main room, predictably in their usual spots, to eat. A rolling steam table stood in the center of the floor where they served themselves.

While upon the couch, Ichigo then recalled what Ichimaru said to him about the Blackout. There was no better time to talk to the Vizard about it than now. He moved so he was sitting upright and looked into Shinji's direction. Even after all of this time, he still saw Shinji as the leader of the Vizard and a mentor of sorts, despite seeing him slapped around by Hiyori more times than there were days in a year.

Lowering his bowl of soup, he began, "Shinji, I was wondering..."

The blond turned to look at him, blinking. "What's up?" he asked between a bite of a leek.

He scratched the back of his head, briefly glancing off. "Well, next month is the anniversary of the Blackout. I was wondering if you—or any of you, really—had any idea what caused it."

All eyes, in some way or other, focused on him. However, no one seemed particularly hostile over his enquiry. Shinji even chuckled a bit, sitting upright as well.

"About time you wondered about that," he said, eyes slanting as he grinned. "Yeah. We know what caused it."

"And it ain't pretty," Love huffed, making a face. "If it weren't for Aizen and the Arrancar threat, you probably would have been informed about this a while ago."

Kensei sat near Mashirō, his eyes closed as he considered this. "Maybe. Maybe not..."

Love just shrugged as Shinji cleared his throat to get their attention. "...In any case..." He directed his attention to Ichigo, who watched them patiently. "There are other spiritually-aware humans with abilities like the Quincy. They are called shamans, witches and a vast number of other terms, depending on where you live in the world. What they all have in common is that they can 'access' the spiritual planes, communicate with konpaku even while within the spiritual planes, and can use the abilities of konpaku with a technique called Oversoul."

Getting the feeling that this was going to be an interesting story, Ichigo shifted, crossing his legs, and listened with rapt attention.

"Generally, they are known best as Shamans," Shinji continued, "and have existed for...well, since the earliest recollections of human time. They and Shinigami were once allies; the Shamans kept order in the living world, while the Shinigami kept order in the spiritual worlds. However...the Shamans are the cause of the creation of the first Hōgyoku prototype."

Ichigo's eyes went wide and his lips parted in surprise.

Shinji shook his head. "Now this was just a pseudo-Hōgyoku. The first real Hōgyoku was created by Aizen. Regardless, it still gave the shamans tremendous power by amplifying their natural abilities. It is because of them that the Zero Division was created, 'cause by transferring their souls to the astral plane, they actually found a way into the Reiō's realm."

A sudden rude yawn came from Hiyori, causing Shinji to make a face before waving his hand with a sigh.

"To make a long story short, after a war between the shamans and Shinigami, they somehow managed to take a part of the Reiō to the living world. By doing this, they can easily manipulate souls here, but only when that part of the Reiō is within them. They determine who the vessel for the Reiō is every 500 years in what is called the Shaman King Tournament. Ten years ago, the winner and current vessel for the Reiō actually killed all humans at once, causing what is called the Blackout."

Ichigo leaned back, mortified. "...But...but how?"

"Humans are pretty much just corporeal shells for konpaku themselves," Lisa explained, "so he simply erased the existence of human konpaku for some minutes. But for some reason, he brought everyone back..."

Such simple reference to destroying an entire species in a single second and bringing them back just as easily jarred Ichigo, if he was being honest with himself. To think such a being even existed in the world...They just couldn't be human.

"Wait, he?" he asked, frowning. "The winner is a guy?"

Shinji nodded. "Yep."

"Do you know who and where he is?"

"Yep on the first, nope on the second."

Wary, Ichigo asked, "And...how long is this guy going to have these powers?"

Sighing, Shinji replied, "The Shinigami are still unsuccessful at taking back that piece of the Reiō...so I'm going to guess the current Shaman King will be around for 490 more years." He slightly scowled. "...Unfortunately."

"And that's why I hate Shamans, too," Hiyori scoffed, arms crossed while looking away. "They're technically humans, anyway..."

Ichigo pointedly ignored her, taking this in. Now that he knew the truth, he wasn't too keen on remembering the Blackout at all. He and his sisters weren't fully human, which explained why they weren't...killed. But that day, their mother was with them.

And she died.

He quickly moved away from those thoughts, his chest already tightening from the memories and the reminder. He deeply exhaled, uncrossing his legs. "...So, I take it...it's not good to come upon a shaman, huh?"

"Rhetorical question," Hachi commented.

Nodding, Ichigo asked, "But how would I know if I ever met one?"

Almost everyone shrugged, including Kon. "You won't," Kensei simplified. "You've probably met many already. Japan is full of shamans, and they are otherwise fully human."

"Yeah, that's no surprise..." the teen sighed. Considering his culture's rich spiritual folklore and beliefs...

...This meant his old school could have a shaman or two in it...

"...Is there any way you can detect a shaman?" he asked them.

Lisa adjusted her glasses, answering, "The same way you detect any other spiritually aware human: they possess an extremely high amount of reiryoku."

The teen made a face. That didn't help him too much...

"Don't worry, Berry-tan," Mashirō chirped. "I don't think any shaman would be interested in you."

"Normal shamans, maybe," Rose reminded, "but shamans with evil intentions...?"

Shinji rolled his eyes as Ichigo suddenly paled at the thought. "Don't give 'im something to worry about, Rose. The kid's been through enough."

Hachi hummed. "But he has a point..."

"It's no different than if it was a Quincy or a Hollow!"

"Is not!" Hiyori yelled, readying her sandal. "Stupid Shinji! Ichigo's soul'd be the best thing a fucking shaman would've seen in—"

"I said stop it!"

As the usual clamor rose around him, Ichigo deeply contemplated on what was said, his food completely forgotten. He was nowhere near strong enough to fend off a Hollow yet, let alone a shaman, by the sound of it. He had to get stronger to protect himself...as, as both Hachi and Hiyori said, his soul would be interesting to Hollow and shaman alike. Bad enough a Shinigami like Aizen took such interest in him...

He shuddered a bit at the reminder.

...Ichimaru had known about him since before he was born as well...

Kon, observing the teen, made a small frown upon seeing him shudder.

* * *

 

Back in Lancashire, England, Ichimaru walked around, familiarizing himself with the quaint town. He spent a good chunk of his current life in the Back-Alley's infirmary, no thanks to his condition. Other times, he simply didn't feel like moving around, saving his stamina for when he visited his current favorite person back in Japan.

As he traveled through the welcoming streets, he thought back on what happened during his last training session with Ichigo.

His hand tightened at his side, though he continued to smile at a few people he passed by. Even he had no idea just what it was that possessed him to instigate the teen's regeneration by cutting his wrist. There were several other things he could have done instead. At the time, his mental imagery impressed that it was a good idea. He took delight in the idea. Thinking back on what happened...his actions slightly worried him.

There were times he wanted to kill Ichigo, for reasons he didn't understand. Or worst yet, he did understand, but simply didn't want to admit it...

He looked up at a building upon which stood a statue. He itched to jump up and look over the town from there, but had to remind himself he was in a gigai. It wasn't just any gigai, at that, but one that was helping to keep his very spiritual body together. At the reminder, he made a grimace and placed a hand to his chest. It pulsed within him, silent and deadly.

Shaking his head, he turned about and walked back towards the direction of the slanted street where the Back-Alley Shoppe was located. He had these thoughts before about the teen...Ones of blood and enjoyment...Something was wrong.

Maybe a break from the training would make it right again.

* * *

 

Days went by, and Ichigo still hadn't seen even a glimpse of his teacher. In that time, he trained, as instructed, taking his own time to test the limits of his regeneration. How it happened aside, Ichimaru was right, nonetheless: Ichigo had to master regeneration at a moment's notice.

Since he didn't want to involve the Vizard, he devised an alternative training method than what he'd normally go through with Ichimaru.

"Kon."

The Mod Soul looked up at him from a magazine. He blinked, seeing Ichigo in a muscle shirt and sweatpants.

Ichigo gave a grin. "Wanna train?"

-:Edth:C:-

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Ichigo," Kon said, shaking his legs as he and the teen stood in the underground training area.

At first, he thought Ichigo was being ridiculous when he was asked to fight him using the full strength of his leg power. Only the consideration that whatever that person had taught Ichigo was likely good enough for it made him agree. Or so he hoped.

Stretching, the teen just smirked, and then waved Kon forward. "Bring it."

Kon scoffed, then burst forward and nailed Ichigo in the abdomen with a direct kick, sending him flying into the wall. He watched the teen's expression twist in pain and spit up blood from the force and impact against the rocks, worried.

Ichigo coughed, pulling himself from out of the wall, only to hiss from the pain and the familiar feeling of broken bones. He fell to one knee, his eyes closed, while focusing on the sensations of agony. He could heal his bones, his skin, his organs...

"...Ichigo..." Kon began to approach, guilt etched upon his face.

But Ichigo raised a shaking hand, stopping him. It was already becoming easier to breathe. He made a deep inhale, focusing harder, only to pant when he felt his ribs snap back in place with an audible crack. "...Ow..."

Upon hearing it, Kon raised an eyebrow. Was that...?

More cracks were heard as Ichigo stood up, rotating his shoulders. "Come again," he said, unable to stop himself from smirking once more.

"...Huh." Kon took some steps back, impressed. Was that high-speed regeneration or perhaps the beginnings of it...? "Not bad."

Ichigo was able to follow his movement this time when Kon approached him, ducking just in time when a kick swiped the air above him, leaving a lengthwise, broken impression in the wall. Remembering something like this, Kon jumped back, preventing Ichigo from retaliating with his own kick.

Rising up, the teen had only a moment to roll away from another piercing kick that put a hole in the wall. He swallowed, moving back. That would have done more than broken some bones and torn some organs. He spun up and kicked Kon against the wall, startling him.

"That actually hurt," he commented with surprise, moving off the wall.

"Good." Ichigo knew his strength was nowhere near where it used to be, but it would be good enough against a normal Hollow. His eyes widened for a second as Kon came at him and he flipped back, missing another sweep, and then looked up just as an axe kick was forced upon him.

He put his hands up in time to block, but that did little against Kon's leg strength. He cried out as his wrists were broken and slammed into the ground. His eyes began to glow as he growled and used those same broken hands to lift himself up and spin, catching Kon off-guard. As he went back onto his feet, the cracking of his bones was again audible.

Regaining his footing, Kon stared at the abnormal light in his friend's eyes, but said nothing about it. For now.

-:Edth:C:-

Ichigo remembered those past hours, now, as he exited the ruins and walked into the grassy field surrounding it. It was night, a cool breeze in the air. He slipped his hands into his pockets, feeling satisfied with what he'd accomplished for the day.

He and Kon had sparred for a good four hours or so, this time, because they both enjoyed it. As time had passed, his hits became harder, according to Kon, almost as if his skin became more durable. This hadn't happened in the previous days they sparred.

Taking a hand out of his pocket, he looked at it, considering this. This couldn't be the instinct Ichimaru was talking about as well, could it? Reflexes, senses, regeneration, and intuition he could understand, but...his body? He wasn't going to start becoming a Hollow...?

A shift in the air brought his attention to the field. At first, there was nothing, but then something jumped to the ground in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, he continued walking, trying to discern what it was.

He then blinked upon seeing the familiar slender figure approaching him. "Sensei," he called, surprised to find he was glad to see the older man.

A widening of the perpetual smile and a lazy wave was the teen's response. He then frowned a bit. There was something about the man that was...off.

Ichigo's expression suddenly dropped and he swore as his teacher unsheathed his sword, taking a defensive stance.

"Ya might wanna take off yer shirt fer this..." was his only warning before the sword extended as it was swung.

Eyes widening, Ichigo ducked and rolled, then fell back onto his hands as the sword came back around, letting his senses guide him. "Give me a fricking minute, sheesh!" he exclaimed.

The sword retracted, though Ichimaru looked slightly disappointed, if Ichigo was being honest with himself. He kept his mouth shut as he turned upright, lifting his shirt up before discarding it.

In the next second, his arm was pieced, causing him to cry out. He had only a moment to realize what was happening before several more stabs were given to him, aimed at his arms, chest and lower abdomen, cutting him like Swiss cheese.

He supposed he deserved that. Somewhat.

When the blade finally retracted, he just barely stood, his entire chest covered in blood and dripping into his pants. He breathed steadily, though his heart was hammering. In fact, some of the cuts were too uncomfortably close to his heart. He closed his eyes when his teacher began to approach, pale arms slipped into bellowing sleeves.

"Hm..." Ichimaru hummed, watching the cuts slowly heal, but nothing like what happened when Ichigo's wrist was cut. "Maybe ya need ta be in real peril fer yer regeneration ta speed up..."

"I did fine when I trained..." Ichigo said between clenched teeth.

Ichimaru smiled. "But were they internal wounds 'r external?"

Silence.

"Internal. Those'd prob'ly heal faster. Gotta work on yer external wounds, too," he tut.

Ichigo only sighed, opening his eyes when his chest finally stopped its painful stinging.

The man tilted his head to the side, watching the sanguine liquid trickle down from healed cuts. He had to resist licking his lips. "...Sit. Meditate," he instructed, handing Ichigo a mint green cloth to wipe his blood from his chest. "Meanwhile, I'll cut at ya."

-:Edth:C:-

Almost an hour later, Ichigo sat cross-legged on the grass, his eyes closed. By now he didn't even flinch when the attacks were inflicted on him, used to the sensation and no longer affected by them.

Ichimaru attacked from several different angles, slashing and stabbing the teen while examining what healed faster. As time went on, all cuts began to regenerate in a second, almost as if Ichigo's body finally realized the situation.

"Yer body's wakin' up," Ichimaru commented, stopping his attacks. "This is enough."

Opening his eyes, Ichigo rolled his shoulders and looked himself over. The cuts were too shallow to even bleed, by the looks of it, unless that was because they healed so fast. His skin was...fine, really.

"I should be disturbed," he commented, "that I'm allowing you to do this."

Smiling at him, Ichimaru placed his sword back into its scabbard. "But?"

"But the results are satisfactory." Picking up his shirt, Ichigo cast his teacher a glance before donning it.

"Don't worry," the man assured, waving a hand dismissively as he approached. "Ya don't got any idea how helpful all of this'll be later on."

"And you do?"

"Yep." He tilted his head to the side, thinking something over. Something...darkly entertaining... "Wanna play tag?"

A deadpan expression was his response.

"Aw, this ain't eyeless like before," he said with a grin. "This is more trainin', last one fer tonight."

Frowning, Ichigo asked, "But I can't—"

"Shō."

"DAMNIT!" he cried out, rolling just in time to miss the kidō. "I get it! There's a way!"

"Good." Lowering his hand, Ichimaru took a deep exhale, massaging his chest a bit. "There're two ways ya can do this."

As he listened, Ichigo rose from the ground.

"This first method o' high-speed movement requires ya ta manipulate reishi again. Simply gather it ta yer feet an'—"

A hand was on his shoulder, his student standing behind him.

Grinning, Ichigo chuckled, "Tag."

"Hm..." Ichimaru nearly glared back at him. "Ya disgust me, learnin' all this so fast."

"Always was a quick learner."

"Been trainin on yer reishi manipulation."

"That, too."

The next second, Ichigo moved away, riding on the flow of reishi in the air. It reminded him of using shunpō, except he wasn't actually moving his feet. It was practical, since he probably didn't have enough stamina to keep that up...

He suddenly ducked from a kidō attack and glanced back to see Ichimaru firing at him while using light shunpō. Two could play that game.

Ichimaru's grin grew upon seeing the teen form a large blade-like weapon made from reishi in his hand. How dangerous...

Despite his ability to use the movement technique, Ichigo was no master...yet. Even he knew this, as also proven by his occasional stumbles and uncontrolled slides along reishi, but he was still doing a fantastic job for a first-timer.

...It was infuriating to Ichimaru that the teen wasn't even aware of just what he was doing...It had been too long...

A large light-blue spike whisked by his face, causing him to speed up to avoid the others being thrown at him. He observed how the teen created them, comparing his arm pulling back to form the blades to the techniques used by others of his heritage...Something more would have to be done for him to get to that next phase...

He grinned wider, disappearing from the teen's sight with a burst of shunpō.

But now it was time to have fun.

Ichigo stopped in place, blinking. He held another blade in his hand, grimacing. It hurt to hold them, and sometimes it hurt more than usual, for some reason, but making them was a breeze...

Too late, he felt something appear behind him, but didn't move away in time to avoid the sword that pierced through his abdomen. Eyes wide, he stared at the bloody blade sticking out of him, feeling his body begin to shake and the blade dissipate in his hand. Not again...

With great force, Ichimaru pulled his sword out, smiling wickedly. As the white substance bubbled from out of Ichigo's wound and before the teen could stumble forward, he brought him closer, wrapping one arm around his chest and another bringing Shinsō to the tanned neck.

Ichigo was too deeply in shock to notice what was going to happen until it was too late. He convulsed as his neck was cut, then slumped down to the ground, his eyes half-lidded. This pain was a hundred times worse than when his wrist was cut, his body twitching. His neck regenerated quickly enough, but the pain was still too fresh in his system.

Humming, Ichimaru never considered that possibility. He walked around the teen's body, waiting for him to get back up.

He didn't have to wait long. Ichigo's eyes snapped open completely within a few seconds, and he glared up at Ichimaru to show that they were a stark white color.

"You have a fucking twisted idea of what teaching is," Ichigo growled, his voice deeper and warbled, completely unaware his black reiatsu flared about him. Slowly, he began to stand up. "I sense that...bloodlust again...Why?"

"Ya can sense that, eh?" Ichimaru looked genuinely impressed, tapping Shinsō on his shoulder. "Well, well. Yer body really is wakin' up."

"Answer my fucking question!" Ichigo snapped, familiar with Ichimaru's antics, now. "There's something off about you..."

Instead of answering, Ichimaru appeared directly in front of him, causing the teen to gasp. Ichigo's breathing then hitched when he was stabbed once more at point blank. He looked down at his chest, grimacing. "...Ichimaru..."

"Been wantin' ta do this fer a while..." purred the man, glee on his face even without the aid of his eyes.

"...Why...?" Ichigo breathed, realizing that his regeneration wasn't triggering with Ichimaru's blade within him.

For a moment, a ghost of confusion overcame Ichimaru's expression. But it was quick to disperse as the man gave a light shrug. "My instinct." Yes. That made sense...

The desire to kill.

There was nothing Ichimaru felt more strongly than that. It explained everything.

He retracted his sword and kicked Ichigo to the ground, watching the wound regenerate the moment his blade was out. "I wonder just what it'll take ta kill ya, Ichi-kun~" he pondered aloud, swiping at the air to take the blood off his blade.

There was a sudden rustle, directing Ichimaru's attention to his left, but he noticed it too late.

A long figure abruptly rammed their feet directly into Ichimaru's side, appearing out of the darkness. Within a blink, it seemed, Ichimaru disappeared from the incredible force behind the kick, shortly colliding with something in the distance.

Ichigo looked up at the now standing figure to see an enraged Kon glaring at him. "...Kon..."

"Why the HELL didn't you tell me you were being trained by Ichimaru-fucking-GIN?!" the Mod Soul screamed, hands in tight fists at his sides. "He would've killed you!"

At first, Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, but his intended words fell short. There was much he could say...That he didn't think it would've happened, that Kisuke was supposed to know Ichimaru was alive, that he thought maybe Ichimaru had changed...but it seemed rather silly to trust Ichimaru at all, considering who he was.

...Yet...

...No. No, something was wrong.

Ichigo stood up, looking into the direction Ichimaru flew into. "Kon, I need to see him," he informed.

"WHAT?! He just tried to—!"

"That wasn't him!" Ichigo snapped at his friend. Upon seeing the surprised expression on Kon's face, he calmed himself. "...That wasn't Ichimaru. I have this...feeling. I trust it. Ichimaru wouldn't have tried to kill me."

Kon placed his hands on his hips. "You mean to tell me there was something else controlling him or something?" he asked, incredulous.

Nodding, Ichigo began to move into the direction of the fallen man. "Something like that...I dunno."

Throwing his hands up, Kon just shook his head in disbelief and supreme confusion, but followed Ichigo nonetheless.

As they began to run in Ichimaru's direction, an agonized scream rang out into the darkness.


End file.
